Inauspicious
by annabaker71
Summary: Christian & Ana Grey's happy marriage explodes in Ana's face & she realizes years of feeling inadequate can also be feelings of intuition. Discovering her husband has returned to his predilections, there's only one thing left for Ana to do. This is a story of betrayal, heartbreak, friendship & revenge.
1. Chapter 1

_**Presently In The Past**_

Ana sat on the tiled floor of the kitchen, leaning back against the wall as she chewed on a red Twizzler.

She could hear the movers upstairs shuffling around noisily as they boxed up her remaining belongings. Ana had a fleeting moment of annoyance that the movers were ruining the carpet with their muddy boots, but then remembered that the carpet being clean was no longer _HER_ problem. This was a problem for the realtor. So many things were no longer her problem. _THANK GOD._

It continued to pour down rain which meant these overpriced yet whiny movers were still loudly bitching about it. Fuck, it's November in Seattle, what do you expect? Sunshine and roses? Ana postulated those closest to her would presume this wretched weather may reflect her frame of mind, but it didn't. This dreary day hadn't dampened Ana's spirit. Ana _FINALLY_ felt content.

Kate and Elliot had left earlier after coming by to check on her since they knew it would be the last time she'd be in this house that was _SUPPOSED_ to be a home. Everyone had checked on Ana that morning. Ray wanted to come along with her, a despondent Grace had called, breaking down as Ana tried to assure her that she'd be fine as she had Sawyer with her. Mia had literally blown her phone up with text messages. Each one had made Ana giggle. Mia only stopped her bombardment of love when Ana promised her a dinner and shopping date for the next day. Carla had also called, but Ana sent that call straight to voicemail. Even after Ana and Christian Grey's disastrous marriage was splayed to the entire world, Carla hadn't offered to fly to Seattle to support Ana, and only called her daughter sporadically. No one was surprised.

During Kate and Elliot's visit the trio sat on the living room floor Indian style like children in preschool. They reminisced about all the good memories they'd always share and laughed at years of Elliot's antics. Ana and Kate couldn't help from laughing at the idea that fate brought Kate and Elliot together. Elliot chimed in about his good fortune of going to The Mile High Club that night with Christian. Immediately after mentioning Christian's name, Elliot looked down at his hands. Both women saw it, but played it off quickly by laughing that yes, it had to be fate that led to their marriage and two gorgeous girls who were both flaxen haired, emerald eyed copies of their mother.

But the trio could not ignore or block out the screaming _UNSPOKEN_ words that hung in the air implying that at least one of the couples had _STAYED TOGETHER. _During their entire stay Ana saw the underlying sadness in Elliot's eyes. A sadness Ana understood and one she wished she could erase. But of course, she couldn't. The fact that everyone's life had been turned on its head wasn't Ana's doing. That fact sat squarely on the shoulders of Christian Grey. And none of his patented evasive moves could change that.

Even as the three of them talked and laughed, Ana pondered if the guilt Elliot was also burdened with would ever fully dissipate. Elliot was holding on to the guilt of witnessing his brother's betrayal and beating him to a pulp. Full of guilt because he'd had to tell their family.

At one point the trio lapsed into a refreshing reprieve from Elliot's forced bravado. Kate took her husband's hand and smiled at Ana. Yes, it was a bittersweet smile, but it also held pride that her friend had rid herself of a virulent poison. The corners of Ana's lips crept into a smile Elliot didn't notice since he was sprawled out on the carpet.

Kate and Ana were proud of what they'd done. Well, Luke played a huge part too. Oh, as did Luke's "Invisible Ghost Guy" as Kate referred to him, but, shit, he was a ghost. They'd never met him, or saw him, they didn't even know his name. They just paid him and he did whatever they needed him to, and did it exemplary. All Kate and Ana knew was that between the four of them, they'd found enough disgusting evidence of a husband's vow crushing life, that Christian Grey probably wished he'd never granted Kate her interview. But to Kate, all she cared about was that they'd managed to scrape Ana up off the floor and helped her heal.

Kate and Elliot got up to make their way back home to their adorable Ava and newborn Emma Grace and made plans with Ana for dinner later on in the week. Following Kate out the door, Elliott turned around and hugged Ana tightly, whispering "I'm so sorry." Trying to comfort Elliot, she told him there wasn't anything that he needed to apologize for. Saying those words caused Ana to hold back a sob that she prayed Elliot hadn't heard. It wasn't a sob over Christian but Ana didn't want Elliot to assume that it was. Ana was alright, but she was astute enough to realize everything was going to be different. After waving them off on their way, Ana headed to the kitchen and flopped onto the floor. Hell, she was eager to leave this house herself. Bought for love and now sold from deceit.

Leaning back against the wall for what seemed like hours, Ana, being restless and bored, jumped up and made her way upstairs where a very bored Luke Sawyer was standing guard while overseeing the movers. She smiled at him for being so over cautious since he already knew that all of her jewelry had already been removed and safely ensconced in the safe at her new home.

Kate had ridiculously arranged each piece of jewelry by the color of its gem. "Color coded jewelry." The thought was hysterical and so like her best friend. Kate, only weeks away from Emma Grace's due date, blamed this behavior on "nesting." Ana quipped that if this theory were true that Kate should name this child Birdie, a comment that sent them both howling with laughter. This was a memory that made Ana roll her eyes. Realizing there wouldn't be a scolding comment afterward, she smiled.

The only things left to pack were the rest of her clothes and shoes, along with her beloved books in the library. Ana's library at her new home had two walls that were floor to ceiling bookshelves. Just thinking of placing each book in its rightful place made her school girl giddy and she looked forward to putting her new library together. Putting something back together she mused, now resting on the top stair not too far from Luke. How easily it sounds to put something back together, but some things you just can't, and then there are some things you don't care about putting back together.

Sometimes your life becomes dust on the floor. Your life may rest lazily in someone else's hands, only to be blown into oblivion, just like Christian had done to their life together. It was as if he smashed their marriage into bits and for years let it all slowly float away. Ana's marriage had floated away and she didn't even know it.

Ana chewed on that thought just the way she was chewing away on her Twizzler and rested her head back on the wall.

The movers were loud and obnoxious and Ana's head began to ache. She opened her eyes and found Luke staring at her. Ana got up and walked in his direction, she simply wanted to rest until all the packing was done. Luke raised an eyebrow up that she knew was meant as a question, but Ana promised that she was fine, it was just a simple headache and she'd be in the room that had been designated as Ray's. "Just come get me when it's time to go." Ana told him quietly. Luke nodded and she felt his eyes on her as she walked away.

Ana knew why he was watching her. Luke was aware of the room she would have to pass by. She kept walking, but couldn't help glancing at the closed door. The door to _THEIR….._ Ana shut that thought down quickly. Christian had forfeited a right to be in his wife's thoughts the minute he started trolling that club…."_**Shut the fuck up, Ana!"**_ she screamed at herself.

Ana climbed into the massive bed and grabbed one of the pillows. Ray had left the curtains open during his last visit, or perhaps it was Gail before she resigned from her employment with Christian. Poor, Gail. Ana hated how all of that played out and what the deceit had caused Gail and Jason. "No," Ana thought. What Jason Taylor's deceit had caused. Lying, only then to cover it up doesn't tend to mix well within a marriage. Ana knew that a part of Gail understood Taylor's actions since Christian signed his paycheck. But what Gail could not look past was his lying to her, along with him enabling Christian, a married man go back to that _KIND OF LIFE. _That broken marriage was yet another load Christian Grey had to carry on his shoulders, more of his collateral damage. Yet, as Gail had predicted, Taylor remained loyal to his boss and they both lived in Christian's castle in the sky.

Ana had asked Gail to come and work for her, but Gail declined her offer. She just couldn't do it since it would just be a constant reminder of Taylor. Gail took Christian's severance pay and went to move in with her sister. Later she informed Ana that Christian began to deposit large sums of money in her bank account and still paid for her health insurance. After Gail found out she promptly cancelled them both. She refused to live her life dependent on Christian's guilt money.

It seemed everyone in their inner circle thought they knew things that the others did not. And for a long period of time that was the case. Once Ana discovered just how long she'd looked like a fucking fool, it took every ounce of Luke Sawyer's physical strength to wrestle that gun from her hands while Kate was attempting to scream reason at her. It's ironic you aren't aware that you're living inside a house of cards until they start falling down upon you.

Ana did not want these god damned thoughts invading her mind so she put a pillow over her head. But since the curtains in the room were pulled back, Ana decided to watch the rain coming down. For some reason, dreary days like this made her feel like a little girl back in Montesano with her head in a book, knowing Ray would keep her safe.

But Ana wasn't at home in Montesano. She was inside a guest bedroom in an enormous mansion overlooking the Sound. She took in her surroundings, knowing it would be the last time she'd ever be in this room. She banished that thought and smelled the pillow that still had her father's scent on it. A scent of comfort and a life time of loyalty. That's what Ana had ever wanted-a simple life. She only dreamed of a husband, a man that was full of love and loyalty. Ana had wanted a stable and boring life where she read her children bedtime stories.

Not a disinterested mother or a disruptive childhood. Ana had certainly never dreamt of a life where the term BDSM was the norm or where a home had to have a "playroom". Ana could have never imagined living with a nagging sense of inadequacy or feeling compelled to partake in her husband's _inclinations_, especially those that Ana was _STILL _uncomfortable doing, in order to keep him. But Ana never relented on her hard limit: pain. It had never occurred to her that she'd love a man to hell and back as he ripped her heart to shreds. But Ana had married a man like that and lived a marriage experiencing those feelings. Christian had finally proved that Ana had been right all these years-that since she would never be able to fill his _extreme needs, _he'd find others that could.

Ana had simply wanted a marriage like Grace and Carrick. One like the improbable, but solid marriage of Kate and Elliot. Yes, those were the love stories that Ana had ever wanted and despite her current circumstance, still knew she'd one day have a loving marriage like that.

Maybe it was her being in this damn house that caused her to recall all the soul wrenching bullshit. Every discovery, deception, and lie that had led up to her lying alone in a guest bedroom in the very house she thought she'd spend her life in. Remembering it was Christian's premeditated cunningness that had brought noisy, overpriced, and whiny movers into her former home so they could pack up expensive fucking shoes and bring them to another house, one in which she'd live alone. Well, not really alone, Luke would be with her.

Looking out that window, where those blackened clouds spewed down rain, Ana tried, really tried, to not remember that _moment. _

The moment an unexpected collision between a train and a nuclear bomb exploded into Ana Grey's life.

That explosion that felt as if it were ripping her limbs apart and dismantled her entire being.

That explosion left shock waves which reverberated into so many other lives. Christian's actions caused a colossal disaster that hurt so many of the people that loved him and that he loved. And in that one _moment, _his destruction leveled everything, and nothing could ever be the same again. Ana wondered if Christian ever regretted what he' done.

But as every story ends, there is also a beginning. However unconventional it may be.

Katherine and Ana, along with the photographer and his lighting assistant were waiting on _THE _Christian Grey in a swanky suite at The Fairmont Olympic Hotel in downtown Seattle. Kate had driven all the way from Vancouver the day prior to get an "exclusive" interview with Washington State's youngest billionaire. Kate arrived home that evening and slammed the front door, rage rolling off of her. "Can you fucking believe that asshole said he didn't have time for a few original pictures and I'd have to wait until tomorrow? AND he fucking knew where I'd driven from! I don't care how rich this "mogul" is, now I've got to fucking drive all the way back to god damn Seattle! On top of being a prick, he was fucking _weird!" _Kate was actually screaming this despite being right in front of Ana. Internally groaning because she knew her friend so well, Ana had no doubt Kate would coerce her into going with her. Sure enough, that next morning Ana rode shotgun while Kate had the pedal to the metal barreling towards Seattle once again.

The door of the suite opened at the exact time Grey had allotted Kate, and a very tall and muscular looking man entered the room as his eyes scrutinized the four college students; he looked like a secret service agent. Kate and Ana looked at each other and giggled. But walking briskly behind him was another tall man that Ana assumed to be Christian Grey. He had messy, copper colored hair that he wore with ease and a face Ana could only describe as beautiful. It was only until he was further in the suite that Ana noticed his eyes and her breath hitched. They were a dark and deeply gray, an eye color Ana had never seen before. Despite being drop dead gorgeous and dressed straight out of GQ, this man looked irritated, unhappy, and didn't hide the fact he felt they were wasting his time.

Grey nodded at Kate, who naturally took control of the uncomfortable situation, and began to introduce the "mogul" to her friends. Kate had been in front of Ana, and being so much taller, pivoted to her right to introduce her roommate to Grey, who wasn't even paying attention. He finally acknowledged Ana when she quietly said, "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Grey." her arm stretched out towards the man in order to shake his hand. Ana quickly felt as if she was being scrutinized. Christian Grey took in her lovely face and locked an intense gray stare with Ana's light blue eyes. She watched him grin widely when he took her dainty hand and held it a fraction too long. Ana and Kate both watched Grey's eyes take in her petite frame, then set his gaze on her long, dark tresses. Katherine's face was an immediate scowl as she watched Grey's expression become one of a predator that had found his prey in her best friend. Kate shut that shit down quick, and was asking Mr. Grey if he preferred to sit or stand before he'd even had time to finish telling Ana it was a pleasure to meet her.

The very second that the petite, brunette Anastasia Steele's skin made contact with Christian Grey, she felt a strange electrical shock run along every fiber of her body. This gravitational pull Ana felt intensified as she observed the way his body moved. Shit, even the way he smelled. Ana knew sexual attraction and lust, but not a lust so powerful that it's visceral. The fire that Christian Grey's skin ignited in Ana was unfamiliar and creeping downward. A raging feeling such as this tends to leave one vulnerable. And despite Kate warning her about Christian Grey several months later, that random night the best friends ran into the Grey brother's , Ana's fuck me against a wall feeling was back. Ana never would have imagined where giving into that want would take her.

Yes, Ana was a part of the typical college lifestyle. She had casually dated several guys, there'd been a drunken one night stand, as well as two long term serious relationships. One ended horribly, the other amicably because her boyfriend, Riley, went to grad school at the University of Washington in Seattle. With Riley coming back to Vancouver a lot to see his buddies, Ana ran into him a lot. Eventually Ana and Riley saw each a lot in her bed after they became friends with benefits. Yes, she was sexually experienced, loved sex, and Riley never failed to provide Ana with mind blowing orgasms. But what _The _Christian Grey made her feel with that one handshake, was nothing Ana had experienced.

The atmosphere in the suite relaxed as it appeared Christian Grey's attitude had improved slightly, but after 20 minutes of the photographer basically taking the same shot since Grey wouldn't change poses, or even attempt to smile and kept checking his watch. Kate turned toward Ana, mouthing "bastard." Finally, Kate called an end to everyone's torture and thanked Mr. Grey for his time and agreeing to the photo shoot. He curtly nodded, then went up to each college student to shake their hand, and bid them goodbye. Grey sauntered over to Ana last, once again holding her hand. "It was nice to meet you Miss…?" His baritone voice like melted chocolate.

Not knowing it at the time, but just by telling Christian Grey her name, Ana had changed the course of her life.

Ana opened her eyes when she heard Luke calling her name. Not meaning to, she had fallen asleep. She couldn't decide which had been worse, being awake and thinking of her present life or falling asleep just to dream about how her past had led her here. Half asleep, she started down the stairs and stopped when she noticed the concerned expression Luke had on his face. She cocked her head to the side, smiled at him and with a tongue full of complete sarcasm, said, "If you ask me how I am, I promise to take your gun and shoot you with it."

Luke simply shrugged his shoulders to let Ana know he didn't give a shit and waited for her to put her shoes on and grab her purse. He had noticed that Ana had not turned around to look at the house that was still furnished with everything the Grey's had ever bought. Ana had taken all the photographs she was in with family or a few of friends, but all the pictures of Christian and Ana remained where they'd been placed. Even one of their wedding photographs that Christian had enlarged still hung above the fireplace. Luke took in one last look and thought the whole place looked creepy, as if time had ceased to notice and passed by. Luke had spent years here, watching Ana make this place a loving home, and couldn't help but know, that despite her denials, this had to hurt Ana like a mother fucker. But then Luke shook his head at his own thoughts and wondered when he'd turned into such a sentimental bitch.

It was still raining like hell, so they hurried to the SUV. A Cadillac SUV. Not a fucking Audi. It was Ana's Cadillac SUV meant to say fuck you, and your Audi's, Christian Grey.

Luke started up the vehicle and asked Ana if she'd remembered to lock the door, she asked him if he was her father and then with a devilish grin on her lips she mouthed, "Fuck it." Luke laughed at the petite foul mouthed woman sitting beside him. There was none of that sitting in the back seat with these two, not after all they'd done these past months. Revenge isn't always easy, especially the kind Luke and Ana had come up with.

Luke keyed in the code to open the gate and as he started to turn out on the street, Ana quickly glanced back. But it wasn't really a glance at the house itself. It was a glance of that night Christian took her to see the view overlooking the Sound and asked if she'd like to look at it for the rest of her life.

She just as quickly turned back around and laid her head back against the headrest as Luke drove away.

Away from their home on the Sound.

Away from those years of genuine happiness.

Away of from the memory of a man she loved with her every breath.

Away from the knowledge that their love had always been doomed.

_**YES, THE PLOT IS YET ANOTHER CHRISTIAN TURNS BACK TO BDSM PLOT, BUT THE STORY ITSELF IS ENTIRELY DIFFERENT. IT'S GOING TO BE A SLOW BURNER, SO BE PATIENT WITH ME. THE 2ND CHAPTER IS NEARLY COMPLETE, SO I'LL POST IT SOON &amp; WE CAN WATCH THIS STORY AS IT ACTUALLY BEGINS. **_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Again, all rights to the characters of Fifty Shades of Grey belong to E. L. James. I only have the right to my own story &amp; characters as I've written them.**_

_**Secrets, Family, And An Embossed Silver Envelope**_

Sitting around their usual table in the same restaurant they'd had their weekly lunch for years, were four beautiful women with the surname of Grey. This weekly ritual had started not very long after Kate had married Elliot. This was a relaxing time where the women let their hair down, were free from the entire family and where they were able to gab over subjects of no consequence and the usual female gossip.

But this lunch was a week after Ana had moved into her new home, leaving Grace and Mia with a heart breaking feeling of permanence. But due to the bogus story they'd been given, mother and daughter still held onto the hope of Ana and Christian reconciling.

With every bite of their meal and every sip of tea, each woman was aware that things were different. Not with a difference in their love for one another or in the bond they would forever share, just simply an air of difference.

Dr. Grace Trevelyan Grey loved Katherine and Anastasia the way a mother loves a daughter. There were extreme differences between these two women, and they were what Grace loved about them. Her own daughter, the loud and spirited Mia brought her effervescence and overwhelming love wherever she went, even charming strangers. Kate was tenacious with a spirit full of fire. She could often be outspoken and over the years this had sparked a few awkward moments within the Grey family, but Grace knew that Kate's heart was full of loyalty and love for a few lucky people.

One of the people Kate loved and protected fiercely was Grace's precious daughter in law, Ana, the once shy and somewhat timid young woman that Grace initially met. But Grace watched with pride as Ana developed a quiet strength and became a woman of confidence and self pride. Grace's love for Ana also held a depth of gratitude for being the catalyst that brought Christian closer to his family, closer to Grace. But now, Grace feared Christian would revert to his own world that had kept him away from his family.

There were so many unspoken questions that Grace and Mia had, but they wouldn't dare ask Ana. They both assumed Kate knew the answers, but also knew as Ana's best friend, that Kate would never reveal them. Of course, this was true, but the answers were also the secrets that Ana and Kate shared, none meant to deceive their family, but to protect them.

Even now the only Grey's that knew the actual truth were Kate and Ana. Christian wasn't even aware of what had been orchestrated around him. Not yet anyway. They had more than enough to dismantle Christian's entire life, but to place a blaring light of truth on him would put their family in jeopardy of public humiliation, which the women would never cause, no matter how many technicolor flash drives existed. This was the very reason that Ana, Kate, and Luke had drawn up very detailed NDA's to ensure Christian they would never tell anyone the truth. The truth of what they'd found that had desecrated Ana's entire being.

Despite Ana and Kate's sister like closeness, Ana had kept one secret from her, the one that only Luke knew about. While Kate thought that Ana and her legal team, plus Luke, herself, and Luke's "ghost man" as she called him, had all signed an NDA, Ana made sure that Luke's secret friend hadn't been given one. Yes, this was done from the dark vindictiveness that had overtaken her hurt and pain, yet Ana knew she'd probably never pull out that trump card. But in the middle of the night as she was robbed of sleep, Ana would push her refusal about hurting the Grey's and only think of Christian, and imagine her joy when she gave Luke the go ahead to contact that unknown man to unleash hell.

Ana was pulled from her thoughts when she caught Grace staring directly at her with tears in her eyes. Despite her best efforts of wearing a mask to appear stoic to her mother in law, Ana began to cry with her, neither women remembering they were in a public setting. As soon as her mother's first tear fell, an inconsolable Mia all but ran to the ladies room. The gaping fault line in this family was already too much for her to handle. Mia felt as if she was being torn in half, as if she had to pick a side to be on; her brother's or Ana's. Ana kept telling the entire family not to feel that way, she was confident in their love for her, but Christian was their son. But they were still so hurt and angry that they couldn't see past anything but being there for Ana.

While Grace also excused herself from the table, Kate grabbed Ana's hand underneath the tablecloth and squeezed it hard. Ana wasn't sure if it was from a place of comfort or a reminder that she needed to lose the guilt since this wasn't her fault. But while Ana did carry guilt on her shoulder's, she knew her best friend lived with guilt as well, perhaps even more so. After all, the entire time Kate was helping Ana uncover the layers of Christian's sordid betrayals; she was lying and essentially deceiving her husband while sleeping beside him each night. Even though Ana did everything to refuse allowing Kate to help her, she still felt terrible knowing what cost her friend might have to pay for it. Ana's mind wondered as she asked herself of a time that Kate had ever let her down?

Eight months in the big city of Seattle had not impressed Ana very much. It seemed that all of her time was spent working at a small publishing house, SIP. Despite her long days, Ana was the first to confess this was the way to learn the ropes in editing a wonderful book. She accepted a position at a small up and coming company because it seemed a perfect fit for Ana, warm, yet challenging. She also recognized experienced editors that would mentor her and their close relationships with the authors. It disturbed Ana when she heard that SIP had been bought out by a much larger company, fearing that a larger organization would cost SIP to lose the intimate feel they had. Despite only being there a short period of time, Ana had an innate talent for recognizing a well written manuscript, and had chosen a few that were well received by her boss, a kind older woman named Martha who took them to the higher up's. One author, whose manuscript was one that Ana had recommended to her Martha, was actually a few years younger than Ana herself. It began as a quite depressing memoir based on a child's early life of abuse, but one that ultimately ended with an up lifting message as the child overcame her early years and became a successful author. Since it appeared SIP was leaning towards publishing the memoir, this young lady was rapidly achieving her goal. This author was the type of woman Ana could see as a friend.

As they'd always planned, Ana and Kate moved to Seattle, living together in an apartment downtown that was so close to Ana's job that she walked to work. Naturally, Kate had dove head first into her dream career as a journalist and was working a low level position at the Seattle Times, with just a bit of influence that her last name was Kavanagh. Kate had not wanted to be a part of her father's vast empire, Kavanagh Media. Yes, being his daughter and eventual heir, had opened exclusive doors for her socially, but Kate refused to cash in on his name professionally.

Between Ana and Kate's less than impressive income, both girls finally caved in and allowed Kate's parents to purchase the apartment they lived in. Kate's parents insisted they live in a safe neighborhood and pretty much badgered Kate and Ana until they acquiesced.

The fact the two lived rent free left them both with a bit of extra money at the end of the month, and when they weren't purchasing professional clothing for work, they indulged going out on the town at least once a month. Kate, the forever social butterfly, was still dragging her best friend to clubs. Only now Kate's battle cry was, "Too meet the Seattleites." To which Ana then inserted her well known eye roll.

Then one day in the middle of a random month which coincided with the very week the girls had squandered enough of their pay to afford a fun filled Saturday night, Kate came in from the downstairs mailbox with a handful of utility and credit card bills, the latter being all hers. Ray had always told Ana if she didn't have enough cash to buy something, it meant you couldn't afford it, so put it back and walk away from it. Ana always remembered that advice and didn't own a single credit card.

Kate tossed the mail on the kitchen counter, loudly bitching over her Neiman Marcus bill as Ana grabbed some of the mail herself, and reminded her friend she'd been forewarned not to buy such expensive shoes. "Fuck off, Steele! You have zero right to give me shit because you've worn those black sling backs TWICE!" Ana ignored a whiny Kate, flipping through the mail until one unique envelope caught her attention.

Ana held up a silver embossed envelope addressed to them both but had no return address, her eyebrows rose quizzically. Jerking it out of her hands, Kate looked at her as if Ana would know what the envelope contained if she'd damn well open it. Ana watched a chesire cat like grin spread over Kate's face as she quickly scanned the contents of the fancy silver envelope.

"It appears, dear Ana, that we have been invited to the _exclusive opening _of Seattle's newest hot spot, The Mile High Club!" Kate was screeching as she bounced up and down in place. Looking at her fondly, Ana loudly announced "The Kavanagh name strikes again!" and snatched the invitation back.

"Ana!" Kate exclaimed in a tone indicating something had suddenly occurred to her.

"What, kitty kat?"

Kate turned to Ana with her emerald eyes widened wildly. The second Ana looked at her, she dramatically turned away.

"God, Kate! You know I hate it when you do that weird eye shit. It creeps me out!"

Kate stuck her tongue out in retort.

"Steele, seriously, shut up! Do you know who owns this new club?"

Ana went into the kitchen stalking for anything to satisfy her PMS cravings for chocolate.

"How would I know that or why would I even care? Of all the bars and clubs we've found here, the only owner I know is that Owen dude, and that's because the bar is named, 'Owen's', plus, he bragged about it every time he asked me out."

Kate was determined to shut up Miss. Know It All and give her the 411.

"Don't use that "my vag is about to gush blood" tone with me, young lady. The Mile High Club is the latest venture of the "mogul" himself!" Kate gave her a knowing look, she was fully aware of Ana's lust filled crush.

Ana immediately knew who Kate was referring to since they'd randomly come across a picture of the "mogul" and his beautiful face in local magazine's or in the newspaper. Then they would recall what a rude, pompous ass he had behaved towards them. But then they'd give Christian Grey credit, his ass may be pompous, but it was still hot as hell. Despite remembering what an asshole he'd been, each time Ana ran across a picture of "Mr. Makes My Panties Soaked", Ana went to bed a little earlier and started her little pink friend to vibrate.

After recalling her salacious behavior caused by the sexiest man that she'd briefly met, Ana sighed just the tiniest bit, but then verbalized a quite rational question.

"But why on earth would _we _be invited to the _exclusive opening_ night of a place like that?"

Kate puckered her lips at the idea as well. How in the world had these two nobodies become a blip on a social radar as high end as a certain billionaire by the name of Mr. Christian Grey?

"Oh, you know that rich bastard has no idea who's invited to this soiree. Some poor soul on the lowest end of Grey's totem pole made that guest list. I'm sure that's how we got an invite." Kate replied in a very bored tone and shrugged her shoulders, not giving a shit why they were invited. Kate was already mentally deciding on what she'd wear, while her no nonsense friend remained unconvinced and wouldn't let the subject go.

"Kavanagh, I can see _your name _being on that invite list as you actually _are _a person they'd consider to invite, but that invitation didn't say plus one, it was also addressed to me, and I'm even lower on the totem pole as the 'poor soul' who invited us."

Kate wanted to literally choke the shit out of her midget sized brunette best friend.

"Steele! Who in the literal fuck cares who, what, why, or how you got invited? Just remember it's this Saturday night, just two days away, so we need to figure out what our sweet asses are going to wear! We are not going to try to deduce how Anastasia Steele got invited to this fucking opening! Just concentrate on the men that will be there considering you've only been on four dates since we moved here, and those two random hook up's with Riley do not count! So just look at it as an opportunity to find Mr. Right Now!" Kate's hands were waving wildly around her as she emphasized each point.

"I've been on four dates in eight months because I've been knee deep with work AND I'm not the queen of one night stands!" Ana's voice was raised while she pointed her finger at Kate, but both women were smiling, which turned into a fit of giggles.

Smiling sweetly, Kate strolled towards her bedroom, calling out to Ana, "Maybe you're invited since the mogul looked as if he could eat you that day at the photo shoot." Before closing her bedroom door, Kate heard Ana muttering bitch under her breath.

Ana was quite flushed remembering that look Grey had given her, along with that amazing and electrical feeling she'd had when they shook hands. Lost in her thoughts of that handshake, along with the throbbing between her thighs, Ana was biting her bottom lip imagining she'd get a second chance of seeing Christian Grey up close and personal one more time.

**I said in Chap. 1 it's going to be a slow burner. CG is up next &amp; then we'll be on our way.**


	3. Chapter 3

_To the beginning we go..._

**Shadowy**_** black, Blushing Red &amp; Stormy Grey**_

Ana was sprawled out on a huge red velvet settee that was oddly enough inside a luxurious private bathroom inside The Mile High Club. A certain affable handsome and blonde haired man by the name of Elliot Grey had approached Ana and Kate after they flopped back into their booth, exhausted from a marathon of Cosmo induced dancing. Joining the two women, both were quite taken with the man who wore a huge engaging smile, and the trio spent an hour engaging in pleasant conversation. Elliot seemed genuinely nice and friendly as they discussed their new lives in Seattle and he seemed equally impressed with both of their career choices and told them all about his company as well.

After Kate made a comment about the club's dark atmosphere; Elliot Grey informed them that his brother had commissioned Elliot's company, Grey Construction, for the club's remodel and design. When Elliot said _his brother, _Kate gave Ana a good hard kick to the shin under the table. Ana scowled at her since she was aware of the hint Kate was sending her, while Kate recognized the scowl as a message to keep her mouth shut. Elliot was too enamored with Kate to notice.

There was no denying that Ana had scanned the club for a certain copper haired, gray eyed billionaire, but she never saw him. Ana thought either she was blind due to her dark environment or Christian Grey had skipped the opening night of his club. She'd not considered that Mr. Grey was on the club's upper level where the VIP's were. After all, Ana had never been in a place as expensive as this, so she'd actually not even thought about a club having a VIP section.

After enduring Kate and Elliot Grey's eye fucking long enough, Ana excused herself to go find a ladies room. Reluctantly tearing his gaze from Kate, Elliot told her he would lead her to the VIP section so she could use that powder room, saying it was the only private one in the club and the pride of his favorite designer. After Ana was allowed to head up stairs, she cautiously navigated each ebony marble step, she was a notorious klutz and wearing stilettos only increased the chances for disaster.

Following Elliot's precise directions, Ana opened the bathroom's black and opulently designed door. She gaped as she took in her surroundings. The walls were painted the same deep red shade that illuminated the clubs blackened environment. The floor was black marble and just like the rest of the club, red crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings. The piece de resistance of the room was a red velvet tufted settee. Ana scurried in and locked the door behind her. Too many Cosmos had her bladder about to burst and she was about to pee on herself.

The settee was calling her name as she washed her hands, so Ana decided to give Kate and Elliot some free time to flirt and knowing Kate, to even start mauling one another. Taking off her God awful high heels, Ana tossed them to the floor and flopped back on the settee. It felt as if she was floating on a heaven of velvet and Ana was convinced it was as big as her full sized bed at home. Ana laid there for a good thirty minutes reflecting on the club's entire design. The deep brooding black that was barely lit with red lighting was a tad morbid in Ana's opinion, and she decided that if Mr. Christian Grey had any input on the club's design and color scheme, that he was either a vampire or into some scary Goth shit. Ana also thought about the vast difference in Elliot Grey's personality compared to his brother's. Since the men were as different as night and day, Ana chalked it up to Christian Grey's billionaire attitude turning him into an arrogant asshole.

Although Ana wanted to stay put on her heaven of velvet, she figured she'd given Kate and the blonde hottie adequate alone time and idly wondered if they'd drank that bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne Elliot Grey had sent over to them before introducing himself. Ana was going to be seriously pissed if all that champagne was gone. Finally, she sat up to put on her God awful stilettos and sauntered to the full length mirror. Ana took in her appearance and was surprised that all of her dancing hadn't messed up her brunette up do, courtesy of Kate. After re applying her dark red lipstick, she quickly powdered her face. With such a dramatic lip color, Ana had kept the rest of her make up to a minimum, plus the lipstick complimented the royal blue mini dress she was wearing. She was grateful she'd worn this dress that essentially had no back since a club full of countless people dancing quickly made it feel like a sauna. With one last body check and feeling pretty good about herself, Ana opened the door to head back downstairs.

Making the slight left turn towards the stair case, Ana immediately ran straight into a brick wall. Screaming with surprise, the force Ana made with this brick wall had her falling straight on her ass, but suddenly the brick wall's two very strong arms caught her right before impact. Once Ana was standing upright she saw that the brick wall was a huge man made of nothing but muscle and dressed in a three piece suit. Ana thought he looked familiar, but couldn't quite place him. Beside him was another hulk of a man and they were dressed exactly alike. Ana thought they looked like Agent J and Agent K from Men In Black and couldn't help but giggle. The man that was the brick wall asked if she was alright. Ana nodded and thanked him for catching her in mid fall.

Suddenly, and just like Moses had parted the Red Sea, Mr. Christian Grey walked in between the two men and stopped directly in front of Ana, who all but gaped at him. With a look of concern on his beautiful face, he looked directly at Ana and regarded her shrewdly.

"Are you all right, Miss? I'm Christian Grey, the owner of this establishment." His voice was the exact warm bliss as Ana had remembered and just being in such close proximity to him, Ana couldn't find her voice to answer him, all she knew was that her heart was beating out of her chest. Blinking rapidly and right as she was about to answer him, Ana Steele-clumsiest girl from Montesano, Washington, slipped on the slick marble floor and wobbled just a bit, causing her left ankle to twist painfully and she let out a little yelp. She bent slightly from the sudden, stabbing discomfort and Grey grabbed a hold of her elbow very quickly so she didn't fall yet again. Had Ana not been in pain, she would have better experienced the jolt of electricity he exuded in her body when he touched her. She had no idea why his touch reduced her body to jello.

"Well, now I know you are not all right. You need ice applied to that ankle right away, Miss…?"

Ana could only squeak out, "Ana. Just call me Ana." If he recognized her, which she knew was highly unlikely; it was difficult to ascertain from his impassive expression.

"Reynolds, go get an ice pack while I escort Ana to my office." Grey's voice was stern and curt. Ana watched Hulk number two make his way back down the stairs.

"I'll be fine, I promise. You don't need to bother with me." Ana muttered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny, along with the fact he was rubbing his bottom lip with his index finger. Despite the pain from a probable sprained ankle, she found this highly distracting. Oh, his mouth.

Grey shook his head in refusal. "No. Taylor carry Ana to my office." He raised his eyebrows seemingly to dare her to disagree. Just then Ana realizes Grey never let go of her elbow.

"But, my…." Ana began to utter when she was gently lifted by this man named Taylor. He looked at her with a small assuring smile and followed Grey to a set of double doors that were right before the entry to the club's VIP area.

The office was entirely different than the club. It was a sterile white room that was much too large for one person. Taylor carefully placed Ana on a large white sofa and got two throw pillows from a second sofa to prop her ankle up on. Both men were standing over her and looking at her ankle as if it were a science project. Ana was actually beginning to feel uneasy being in a room with two strange men. Ana was holding onto her clutch tightly when she felt it begin to vibrate from her phone ringing. Kate had probably remembered Ana had been gone quite awhile.

"Um...Mr. Grey, my friend is downstairs, and I, um... I should go find her. I'm sure she's wondering where I am." Grey's steady gaze on her was causing Ana to blush furiously.

"I understand that, and I'll have someone go find her and inform her of your situation. But with the way your ankle is swelling and beginning to bruise, you aren't walking anywhere." Raising an eyebrow, Ana couldn't believe what an arrogant fuck head he was.

Ana's ankle was throbbing from pain and looking down at it, she saw that Grey was correct-it looked horrible and she had no idea what to do. She felt herself beginning to panic.

With a quick glance towards this Taylor man, Ana realized she was going to have to go along with what Grey had said. Feeling his gaze, she took an apprehensive look at him and saw him staring as if he was appraising her, as if those gray eyes were penetrating her.

"Ana, what is your last name? We'll need it to help us find your friend." His head was cocked to one side and was rubbing his chin; his voice quiet and no longer sounded so curt.

Staring at his gray eyes which appeared to be burning, Ana squirmed a bit, causing a pillow to fall off the sofa and move her injured ankle. Wincing, she murmured softly, "Steele. My name is Ana Steele."

The minute her ankle suddenly dropped along with the pillow, the dude named Taylor immediately placed it back, apologizing to Ana at the pain he knew this must have caused her.

Grey's expression had softened and he once again looked concerned. "Miss. Steele, you need immediate medical attention for your injury, and I'm going to have one of my men drive you to the hospital so you can be treated. I promise that you don't have to be fearful despite having only met us, but I can assure your safety."

Ana bit her lower lip as she contemplated Grey's words. She didn't see why he'd insisted one of his hulking men had to take her since Kate was just downstairs.

"Mr. Grey, my friend is here and she can take me. There's no need to have one of your employees drive me. If they'd only go find her for me, I can be on my way, and you can further enjoy your party."

Just then, the second hulk named Reynolds barged in the office with the ice pack and started to place it on Ana's ankle until Grey stopped him. "I'll do that. Miss. Steele, what is your friends name and what does she look like?" Once again his tone is stern. Squatting down on the sofa, Grey gently placed the ice pack on Ana's ankle. _How odd, _Ana thought. A billionaire is holding an ice pack on my ankle. And it was the billionaire that she hadn't seemed to be able to forget. Her purse vibrated again, this time Ana went to open her clutch to answer it.

Grey shook his head of copper hair and with an authoritative voice told her he'd have one of his men find Kate.

Sighing, Ana gave up. "Her name is Katherine Kavanagh, tall and blonde; she's wearing a silver mini dress. Mr. Grey, you've met her before, she interviewed you for our college newspaper at WSU." Ana saw a glint of amusement in Grey's eyes that made her blush.

"Ah. The tenacious Miss. Kavanagh and her inappropriate questions. Yes, I remember her well. Reynolds, go find her." With that order, Reynolds nodded and was on his way in a nanosecond.

Ana had forgotten Kate was with Grey's brother. "Oh, and she's with your brother, Elliot. I'm sure that will make it much easier for you to find her." Ana quickly took notice at the change of Christian Grey's expression and how his body tensed. He wasn't pleased with what Ana had just told him and she watched his impassive expression return. _What was that about?_ Ana wondered.

"Elliot, you say? Well, that's not surprising. His weakness is a pretty blonde. I'll call him and see if they're still together." His voice had changed back to sounding stern. Grey had to let go of the ice pack so he could get out his phone, leaving Ana feeling bereft. Rising from the couch, Grey called his brother, annoyance clearly on his face.

"Elliot. Are you with a Katherine Kavanagh? Good. I have her friend with me…shut the hell up and listen. Her friend is injured…Hell, Elliot let me finish! It appears Miss. Steele has sprained her ankle quite badly and needs medical attention. Miss. Kavanagh needs to take her to the hospital for treatment. Too drunk? Fine. I'll have Reynolds take her and make sure you drive Miss. Kavanagh home." He pushed the off button without even saying goodbye. Grey sounded the same way he looked-pissed off.

"Miss. Steele, it appears Reynolds will have to take you to the hospital after all. My brother said your friend is very drunk and is unable to drive. He will be driving her home. Reynolds will stay at the hospital with you and then take you home as well. Don't worry about any medical expenses; I'll take care of that." Grey's eyes were narrowed, his attitude self-possessed.

Ana rolled her eyes. "That certainly sounds like Kate. Well, I guess I have no other choice. Can someone help me up, please?" She was quiet and sounded resigned to her fate. Fucking Kate, she thought.

Reynolds and Taylor slowly sat her upright and once her ankle was hanging off the sofa, Ana gasped out in pain. She caught Grey's face soften.

"Give me your cell phone." It was all but an order and Ana looked at Grey confused. _My cell phone?_

"What?" She asked.

"Give me your phone. I'm going to call myself on it so you can store my number in your contacts. You may need help at home if you can't walk on that foot and I can arrange for you to receive that help. I'd also appreciate for you to let me know what the doctor says, along with how you are doing. Now, please your phone." _Control freak, much?_

Ana was rapidly blinking as her heart rate increased despite the immeasurable amount of pain she was in. All she could think about was the fact she was going to have possession of _the _Christian Grey's phone number.

With hands that were slightly shaking, Ana retrieved her phone from her clutch and handed it to Grey who rapidly called himself with it. Handing it back to her, Ana saw a distinct glint of amusement in his mesmerizing gray eyes.

"Alright, let's get you tended to. I know you're in pain. Taylor, Reynolds, help Miss. Steele up. Reynolds, carry Miss. Steele to the SUV and stay with her at the hospital. Then drive her home."

"Of course, sir." This Reynolds hulk stood as if he was at attention. _Is this really the life of a billionaire?_

Once Ana was in the hulks arms bridal style and heading towards the door, Grey spoke again giving her a small smile.

"Remember, Miss. Steele, I'll be expecting for you to call me with a full report."

Ana just knew her face was aflame. "Um…okay. Thank you for helping me." Her voice was small and quiet.

Looking as if he were privy to something Ana knew nothing about, he nodded at her politely.

"No need to thank me, Miss. Steele. I just hope you will be alright and treated well."

When Ana had no voice to answer, Reynolds opened the door and made his way to step out.

"Oh-and Miss. Steele, I'll be waiting for your phone call."Grey said smiling at her.

As Reynolds carried her to the awaiting SUV, Ana's stomach was in her throat, but she was wearing a beaming smile that could have lit up The Mile High Club.


	4. Chapter 4

**All rights to characters and story of Fifty Shades of Grey are owned by E.L. James. I own my story and my versions of the characters.**

_~In my outline for this story Christian's POV is limited. It will occur at important and crucial points in the story. I won't rule his POV being as limited as it is now if I decide to make changes to my outline. I've read many reviews that say he's cold and aloof, but I promise that will change, just as it does in the original book….remember his attitude did change in the book. I've also been asked several times if they have children and the answer is no~ _

_~ This chapter is in Christian's POV ~_

_Although it shouldn't, if this chapter confuses anyone, re read the section in Chapter 1 when Ana and Christian initially meet at the photo shoot. This chapter answers other questions as well. _

_**First Blush Of The Morning**_

Only the love of Christ could explain why the fuck I'm inside The Fairmont Olympic Hotel heading toward a suite where I'll have to endure a photo shoot done by inane college students. The only reason I agreed to this, along with that joke of an interview with that Kavanagh woman, is solely a favor to her father, the owner of Kavanagh Media.

With more than enough shit to handle at the office, here I am wasting my time. I follow Taylor inside, annoyed as hell and wishing I'd never invested one single dollar into WSU. As I expected, the obnoxious Miss. Kavanagh tries to command the situation. She obviously wasn't paying attention to me yesterday and failed to realize who commands situations. She begins to introduce me to these amateurs and I don't even attempt to feign any interest in meeting them.

My indifference disappears when I hear a melodious feminine voice saying my name. Looking up to find the source of this delightful sound, I find myself staring right into the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. I wouldn't describe that I was _staring_ at them, no, I was _lost_ in them. _Lost_ in bright, cerulean eyes, a color I've never seen in my entire life-guileless eyes. For an un-nerving moment I find myself unable to respond to this woman's outstretched hand, and I see a flash of confusion in her face as she must notice I'm blatantly staring at her. Remembering myself, I smile at her and take her dainty hand in my mine. Then, I see those beautiful eyes darken for a moment and hear an almost inaudible gasp. I've affected her. I can't help feeling pleased as I recognize her reaction. But her handshake surprises me, it's quite firm and self assured, much like the initiative she took by offering her hand to me in the first place. I'm surprised because I'm used to women who never initiate shit with me. They know better. _They know they wouldn't be walking straight for a week. _

I take in her face, it's sweet, flawless and her cheeks are blushing a faint pink. A faint pink of innocence, perhaps? Despite being dressed in jeans and a plain white tee shirt, she is breathtakingly beautiful and I cannot help taking in her perfectly petite body and glorious mane of brunette hair. She is everything I look for in a sub; she is my perfect type. _No, she's not. She's a young, innocent college student and I'm a dark, twisted man who beats the shit out of little brown haired girls._

I realize that I've held onto her hand a fraction too long and that the Kavanagh woman has noticed. She begins asking me whether I want to sit or fucking stand, when all I want to really do is throw the gorgeous brunette over my shoulder and take her away from here.

My initial annoyance for agreeing to this photo shoot has vanished as I wonder what this beautiful woman's flawless skin would look like after I caned her, or how glorious she'd look helpless, tied to my bed in the playroom. I'm trying to reign in my thoughts, there's no telling how old this girl is, but I can't help gazing at her, and that's when I notice she's biting down on her bottom lip. Fucking kill me, now. How in the fuck did I miss those lips? I can feel my cock twitch and it's pissing me off as I pray I don't get a hard on standing here while this fucking oaf takes my picture. Her eyes and hair are making my balls ache. Those perfect tits on that fucking body, her full mouth that I could fuck in my playroom. _Grey…stop thinking about this. _

I have to keep looking at my watch so I don't look at her and continue to torture myself. This bullshit has got to end soon so I can get this woman's name. A name will give me information, although what I would do with that information is unknown to me since she's not a submissive. Shit, I just want to know about her. _No_, that's not all I want. I want her spread eagle and blind folded. The more I wonder what she looks like under her clothes, the worse my mood becomes. I'm practically scowling at the Kavanagh woman and she finally says they have enough pictures. _Thank fuck. _

I politely shake hands with each of the students, then approach the creature that's driven me crazy for the last thirty minutes. Once again, her hand is in mine and I swear she gasps at our contact. Her skin is soft and subtle, and I'm positive the rest of her body feels just the same. _Name, Grey. Get her name._

"It was nice to meet you, Miss..? I smile at her and find myself lost in those two oceans that are her eyes. I watch as her cheeks blush slightly, but she boldly holds my gaze; fierce- yet innocent. Like a dying man waiting on his last rites, I'm waiting for her to tell me her god damn name. If I just knew her _name,_ I could have her bound and gagged. _Fuck that, Grey. It's not going to happen._

"My name is Ana Steele, Mr. Grey. It was nice to meet you." Once again her voice sounds like a soft melody, but I'm only thinking of the phone call I'm about to make to Welch once I'm out of this hotel room.

Welch is very efficient. By the time I make it back to GEH, Miss. Ana Steele's background check is complete. I quickly download and print it out, going over each line, trying not to salivate all over it. So, Ana is short for Anastasia. What a unique and beautiful name. Just as unique as those clear blue eyes and as beautiful as the woman.

An entire week passes and I'm still thinking of Anastasia Steele, a co-ed about to graduate college. Here I sit, Christian Grey, the fucking CEO of a billionaire company, fantasizing over a 21 year old college student. Her background check tells me she's not all that innocent-she's been in two long term relationships. Strangely, that knowledge pisses me off. I'm also pissed because these ludicrous thoughts of her are causing me to jack off in the shower each morning. This desire of Miss. Steele has made me put someone to follow her around. Once I'm shown pictures of her with another young man, I'm irate. They are out to dinner, or going to watch a movie. _Normal _shit that I have no interest in. I want to cane and fuck her, and since I haven't had a sub in over two months, I _need _that now. So, realizing from all I've gathered, I decide to leave Miss. Steele alone and call Elena. She knows what I need and it won't take her long to fulfill that _need_. But I still keep tabs on Anastasia Steele, wanting to know what is going on in her life, and what she's going to be doing once she graduates in two months. But I give strict instructions to only inform me of any pertinent information.

Elena presents me with three subs to choose from, I've told her I want one with blue eyes. Finally, the last sub Elena brings me is a woman named Olivia. Despite being a few years older than me, she fits my request. For a dominant such as myself, Olivia is a perfect submissive. Her pain tolerance is incredible, I fuck her for hours, yet while I'm pounding into her from behind, yanking her braided hair so tightly that her head is jerked backwards, I often imagine she's Anastasia Steele. The only reason I extend our contract is because of her resemblance to Anastasia, and I wonder if I punish her over the smallest infractions due to my frustration that Olivia isn't Anastasia.

Then one day at GEH, Welch comes in my office with Anastasia Steele's file in his hands. Seeing it excites me so much my dick nearly gets hard-this means something interesting has occurred. I hide that excitement as I stare at him impassively. Welch is Taylor's ex CO and hardly intimidated by any of the glares I throw his way.

"Mr. Grey, you wanted to be apprised of any pertinent changes concerning one Anastasia Steele?"

"What are they" I sound bored and lean back in my chair.

"Miss. Steele has recently moved to Seattle with one Katherine A. Kavanagh. Miss. Steele is also employed with a publishing house called Seattle Independent Publishing. I have all the usual information you require, along with photographs of Miss. Steele." Welch is gruff, straight to the point, and that's why I employ him.

"Give me the pictures."

Most are mundane shots of Anastasia and that God awful Kavanagh woman, but many of her walking downtown by herself. Some shots like this are taken when it has begun to darken. I don't like this and frown.

"Where is she walking to all by herself? I don't try hiding my irritation.

"The apartment where the women reside is fairly close to Miss. Steele's job. She walks to and fro every work day."

Now, I'm pissed. A young, attractive woman walking home from work in the evening? Does Anastasia have no regard for her own safety? That would never occur if she was my submissive.

"I want more than surveillance on Miss. Steele. Place covert security on her, ASAP. And I want any and all information about the company she's working for. Especially the security they may or may not have. I expect to be informed about that no longer than tomorrow. Are we clear?"

"Of course."

"And leave me her file." I want to be able to look at the pictures of the delectable Anastasia Steele.

I try to concentrate on work so I don't keep looking at Anastasia's pictures. I send Taylor over to SIP to check out their security, and he is able to just walk in the building unhindered. This fact amazes us both, since it shows they have no security whatsoever. This pisses me off. Then Barney gains complete access to their computer server so easily that a 15 year old kid could do it. Again, I get pissed off. The only silver lining there is that not only did I get Miss. Steele's email address; I also get to read all of the emails she'd received or sent. It was all boring work shit.

It takes me all of three minutes to make two decisions.

Picking up my phone, I call Andrea. "Get Ros down here, now." I snap at her.

Then I get my cell phone to text Olivia and order her to be at the penthouse at precisely eight o'clock. I don't give a fuck that it's the middle of the week or consider that as a nurse she may be working. Naturally, she replies instantly, assuring me she'll be there. I know she's thinking I want to fuck her, but I only want her there to terminate our contract. Anastasia Steele is back on my radar, despite the fact she knows nothing about my lifestyle or that I'm headed toward being her certified stalker.

When I tell Ros that I'm buying a publishing house she thinks I've lost my mind, and perhaps my lust over a certain brunette has cost me to think rationally. Despite every argument she makes, some of which are valid, I don't relent and we soon acquire Seattle Independent Publishing, which will soon be Grey Publishing. _**I **_am GEH and I get what I want. Period. And I also want Anastasia Steele as I have for all these months, and this acquisition will give me adequate excuses to not only _run _into her, but it will allow me unlimited access to her.

I have to admit that Miss. Steele has proven her worth at SIP. From all I've seen of her work, she appears to have a natural talent in the world of finding talented authors, and talented authors bring in money. Even if we met just briefly, with all of my stalking capabilities, I know her quite well, and I'm actually proud of what she's accomplished at SIP in such a short time. But until the buyout is official, I can't waltz in there and approach her. So, I fucking have to wait…again.

Elliot busted his balls getting my club remodeled and busted my wallet in the process. He chose Gia Matteo to design the club's interior. I'm not sure if that choice was because she's one of Seattle's best designers or because he used to fuck her, all I cared about was the end result. Elliot and Gia were both surprised how I envisioned the club's design and over all atmosphere, but I wanted a certain dark and mysterious feel to it, a bit like my favorite poet Edgar Allen Poe would write. That, and I wanted it to also have the feel of my playroom as well. I always feel in control and powerful in my playroom, and I wanted the club to have that same aura.

Once all was complete, a meeting was held with everyone that had worked on the project. The last topic on the agenda was who would be invited to attend the clubs official opening night. Elliot's only contribution concerning this was that they should all be single, blonde haired women. Leave it to my older brother to only be interested in a blonde and vacuous woman. My instruction was that those fortuitous enough to be invited were to be Seattle's VIP's. With the exclusion of those I personally disliked, who were all on a list that Andrea handed out. But the one and only person I gave a shit about inviting was the exquisite Miss. Anastasia Steele. I gave Andrea the personal task of taking care of this special invitation, and drove myself crazy the entire week before opening night wondering if Miss. Steele would attend. I was almost positive that she would since I had included her roommate, Miss. Kavanagh as well.

As planned, Taylor delivered me to the club via my own private entrance where I could watch the night unfold on the countless CCTV's we'd placed throughout the club. Not giving a shit about mingling with anyone attending this opening, I never once stepped out of the club's office, I was waiting for Taylor or Reynolds to tell me when and if they spotted Anastasia. After the club had been opened for well over an hour, despair was descending since it appeared she wasn't going to show. I was on my third scotch when Taylor informed me that Anastasia and her friend had just entered the club. Not wanting to appear desperate to lay eyes on this woman, I strolled to the screen, only for my breath to hitch at the sight before me. Even in the darkened club and through a black and white CCTV screen_, this woman was exquisite. _I took Taylor's seat, nearly blowing a load when I first noticed that her dress was cut so low it practically reached her ass. I couldn't decide if I wanted to run downstairs and cover her up or find the nearest enclosed place so I could fuck her hard from behind. _Jesus, Grey…no written consent. Yet._

After watching her for more time than I care to admit, I see the two women heading back to their booth from dancing and watch my god damned brother approach them, and then sit down beside the blonde. _FUCK! _I was nearly crossing my fingers that he would get up and go find another blonde woman to harass-if he remotely became involved with this Kavanagh woman it would prove difficult for Anastasia to become my sub. My family and my lifestyle are antipodal. As my luck would have it, he remained at their booth, all engaging in conversation. _FUCK!_

But then we watched Anastasia get up and Elliot brought her to staircase leading her up to the VIP section. Up to where we were. _Why? _The answer was watching the brunette Goddess enter the club's only private ladies room. I begrudgingly gave Elliot credit for being thoughtful enough to send her to the best one in the club.

It seemed as if it was taking Anastasia forever to come out, and all I want is to see her again. I'm waiting impatiently when I suddenly get a genius idea. I can leave this office the very second she emerges from the ladies room and _accidentally _run straight into her. I wonder if she'll remember me.

"Taylor, the very fucking second she opens that door we're leaving this office and heading straight towards her. Do not take your eyes off that monitor." He merely nodded and Reynolds briskly positions himself at the door.

Fuck, I feel nervous for the first time in my life. All I'm thinking about is being able to stare in those pools of ocean blue eyes again, wondering what her reaction will be when she sees me, and hope I don't get a hard on in front of her. _God Grey, are you a 15 year old kid?_

"Taylor?" I'm sure he thinks I've lost it. He's never seen me like this over a woman.

"Negative, sir."

Reynolds is rocking back and forth on his feet, probably thinking he was once an FBI agent and now works for a sexual deviant that's planning some stupid high school shit. Well, fuck him. And, what in the hell can keep a woman in the bathroom this long? I'm rubbing my face in frustration when I finally hear Taylor.

"Sir, we have a visual." Getting up and heading where Reynolds and I are standing by the door, I swear I see amusement in his eyes. I want to punch him.

Taylor and Reynolds open the door and step in front of me while I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Let's go, gentleman." I shake my head at the unfamiliar and scrambled thoughts swirling inside of it.

We make our way out and just as we make that slight turn along the hallway, I watch as Anastasia make a head on collision with Taylor, letting out a scream of surprise. I have an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy as I watch Taylor's hands on Anastasia as he catches her before her ass hits the floor. _Why in the hell would that bother me?_

Oh, Miss. Steele.

What have you done to me?


	5. Chapter 5

All rights to Fifty Shades of Grey are owned by E.L. James.

**Chapter 5 and Chapter 6 came about when I started writing Chapter 5. **

**While writing Chapter 5 I got lost in the attempt to get this story to where it actually "begins." As in, hurry the hell up. **

**Anyway, Chapter 5 ended up being as long as War and Peace (joking) so I decided to make it two chapters. Then I started obsessing over an appropriate stopping place in Chapter 5 that would turn into Chapter 6. **

**Hopefully, I chose good stopping/starting points but I am not sure. Y'all will have to decide and I am sure you will let me know if I did. **

_These chapters are a skewed version of Christian and Ana's first night together. They also show a profound transformation that happens much too easily, which will shine a light on the future behavior of a character. Do not let the differences in the protagonist blind you to the empathy that has been scattered throughout Chapter 6. Chapters 5 and 6 shape both characters and are indicators of future events. _

_**You Have Got To Be Kidding Me**_

Anastasia and Katherine were scurrying around their apartment like mice on a sinking ship. They were both getting ready for work and thanking the God's it was Friday. Ana was searching for her matching black boot, but only seemed to find either a sock or a pair of men's underwear belonging to Elliot Grey, who had all but moved in since meeting Kate three weeks ago. Despite Elliot's loudly gregarious personality, Ana did not mind his presence since she genuinely liked him.

Ana was packing her briefcase with manuscripts when Kate walked into her bedroom, arms crossed and tapping her foot. Worry was etched on her beautiful face.

"Do you really think this a good idea?" Kate asks.

Ana whipped around to look at her and sighed loudly.

_Here we go again._

"Kate, we've discussed this a dozen times. There are zero reasons you need worry about me because it is just dinner. Not to mention its dinner with your boyfriend's brother. And if I do go missing tonight, you'll know where to send the search party." Ana tells her in a seemingly jovial tone, although she really wanted to tell Kate to mind her own business.

"Ana, three weeks ago, you sprain your ankle in the moguls club; he sends a fucking nurse to check on you _AFTER _the doctor cleared you to go back to work! _YOU _even complained when his numerous texts became incessant emails, which turned into very frequent phone calls _AND _if you did not answer, he fucking called Elliot to ask if he knew where you were! Stalker, much?"

"Don't forget about the gifts; flowers the very night you got hurt, which became an everyday occurrence. Books of poetry by Edgar Allen Poe-after you fucking told him poetry bored you, and Poe gave you the creeps! Now, it's a brand new iPad and a fucking Mac laptop!" Kate's voice had risen to a crescendo as she gestures toward Ana's new electronic gadgets.

"Kate…"

"No, god damn it! Listen to me! I sense _Fatal fucking Attraction _here! Then moneybags goes for an extended business trip to who the fuck really cares, and you are in bed waiting for him to Skype with every night! _WAITING, ANA!_ Since when do you wait around for a guy? I watched you with Riley and Alex, and you could have taken them or left them,"

"Kate, if Elliot was here to listen to this lecture he would hang you."

"Elliot? Fuck, Ana, he is even confused with Christian's behavior. Hell, half of Seattle thinks he is gay since he has never been seen with a woman- Elliot admitted to knowing that was the general consensus. But now, Elliot is tickled pink over whatever is happening with you, even if he is shaking his head about it. He told me his brother probably didn't have genitals like a Ken doll!" She arches one of her perfect eyebrows at Ana.

"Kate, that was a meant as a fucking joke and you know it," Ana speaks in a quiet voice but is glaring at her best friend.

"Come on-I _know _you want to fuck him, but like I told you that day I interviewed him, he is _weird_," she says this with no preamble at all. "I don't trust him….it's like he's dangerous or something, and these past three weeks have proven…"

At this point, Ana is beyond irritated and rapidly approaching pissed. "Proven what, Kate?" Her words are cold.

"That he's…over the top, perhaps?" Kate answers quietly, her voice softening.

"You are aware you're saying these things about your boyfriend's brother, right?" Ana does not mean to sound curt, but Kate still frowns.

"Yes, I'm aware. Just like I'm aware of the concerns I've brought up to Elliot about his brother."

The women stare at one another completely confounded. They are not used to having such storming disagreements with one another, and Ana does not even understand where Kate is coming from. They are at a stalemate over an argument Ana does not understand.

Kate sighs deeply.

"You're going to his place straight from work?"

"Yes."

Ana looks away and finishes cramming manuscripts in her case. The tension in the room is squeezing all the air from her lungs and she has got to get the hell out of it.

"Please text me when you get there. I know he's sending someone to get you, but I'm still going..."

"To worry, I know. I promise that I will text you. Please, stop worrying over this... this, unknown reason you do not trust Christian. Okay?"

Kate merely nods.

Ana exits SIP exactly at five thirty, and sure enough there is a black Audi SUV waiting on her curbside-just as Christian told her it would be. All day Ana was barely able to contain her excitement, but now, as she approaches the Audi, Ana is barely able to contain her nerves. Pulling her coat around herself tighter from a biting wind, Ana recognizes the man waiting on her as Taylor, the hulking figure she had collided with weeks earlier.

"Good evening, Miss Steele," he says in a professional tone.

"Hello, Taylor. Please call me Ana," She is smiling broadly, hoping to loosen him up a bit. Ana cannot imagine how far that stick is shoved up his ass. He nods at her and opens the back door, at which point Ana nearly faints. Sitting there in all his gorgeous glory is Christian Grey and he watches Ana climb in the SUV with gray heated eyes.

_Oh, shit._

"Good evening, Miss Steele,"

He is smiling like the cat that ate the canary. A sexy cat dressed in a black suit, crisp white shirt, and a black tie. Ana swallows the lust that is rising up inside her and blinks rapidly; she was not expecting him to pick her up. Christian had told her he would be waiting for her at his penthouse, and Ana was praying she would have a handle on her nerves by the time she arrived there. That prayer was just sent straight to hell.

Too nervous to over think this unexpected Christian Grey moment, Ana decides to feign confidence by concentrating on all their flirtatious Skype sessions.

"Miss Steele? Are we back to that, Christian?" Ana felt her cheeks heating from her blush, grateful for the dark so he cannot see her.

Christian's lips twitch at her words and he clasps her hand tightly, sending an electric current straight to Ana's inner core that alters her breathing. She thought looking at him via Skype set her blood aflame, their close proximity had it bubbling from the heat.

"How was work?" Christian asks, still wearing that smile that is nearly making Ana squirm.

"It was exhausting. My head hurts from reading all day,"

Ana's heart is slamming into her chest due to their skin-to-skin contact, idly wondering if Christian feels the same. If so, he sure is not showing it. Ana is sure that he wants her; they have essentially admitted a mutual longing while being thousands of miles apart and through a computer screen. She starts to stroke his thumb and here comes that 'I've got a secret' smile of his.

"I'm sure there is something I have that will help with your headache, Anastasia." Ana's breath comes to a screeching halt, she is unsure if Christian is referring to Tylenol or Ibuprofen, but she is hoping he is referring to something completely different.

The ride to his penthouse in Escala is a relatively short one and Taylor lets them out at the main entrance. Christian let's go of Ana's hand and ushers her inside the building, both walking in silence. Once the elevator arrives, they step in and Christian punches in a code and they begin to ascend. Ana looks down at their joined hands, wondering when Christian had taken her hand back. She cannot help looking at her feet and smiling. Peeping up at Christian through her lashes, Ana catches him looking down at her, but their silence ensues. Ana cannot understand how this man makes her feel like she did at seventeen when she lost her virginity. Fuck, Ana thinks, even back then she _never _felt like this.

The elevator glides to a stop and the doors open to a vast room with an all white theme, even the marble floors are marble. Ana remembers his club's office looking similar-very clinical. Looking around at the sheer size of Christian's penthouse is overwhelming, and Ana thinks it looks nothing like a home.

Christian walks towards her with one arm out. "I'll take your coat if you like?"

Ana makes the colossal mistake of staring at him-grey eyes to blue. She would like to give him more than her coat. Shrugging it off, she hands it to him all the while under Christian's watchful gaze.

"Anastasia, you look lovely. The blue of your dress brings your eyes out beautifully," His voice is soft, maybe even reassuring.

"Thank you." Ana flushes scarlet and silently curses herself for doing so.

Christian wonders off to a probable closet and Ana walks further into the room. The only color comes from the numerous paintings that cover the walls. It looks like an art museum and not where one would reside. The farthest wall is actually a floor to ceiling window with a perfect view of Seattle. Everything is modern and state of the art, but to Ana it all feels sterile and impersonal.

"I'm going to have a drink. Would you like one?" Christian asks. Ana jumps; she had not heard him walk back into the room. He has taken off his coat and tie.

"Yes, please."

Following Christian, Ana notices a small fire has been set. Inside the kitchen, Ana looks at the dark brown counter top that also breaks the white themed monotony. In a corner across the living room is a black grand piano.

"Here's your wine. Shall we sit while Mrs. Jones finishes up with dinner?"

Ana looks at him puzzled; Mrs. Jones? She had not noticed anyone else in the kitchen.

"Sure. Although, I feel as if I need a map to find where the dining room could possibly be at." Ana murmurs.

Christian laughs at her words and leads her to a dining table big enough to fit an entire Army. He is pulling out her chair when Ana spots two pieces of paper and a pen near her place setting. Completely intrigued as to what they may be, she looks at Christian whose face gives nothing away. Ana pointedly looks at the papers again, raising an eyebrow when she realizes what they are and picks one up.

_Well, well. _

"That is a nondisclosure agreement that I need you to sign. There are two, one for each of us to keep." Christian tells her, his voice slightly distant. He clears his throat before speaking again.

"This document means…"

Kate's voice suddenly fills Ana's mind and her previous disbelief of Kate's gut reaction is beginning to frighten her. But she is not going to let Christian see that.

"Christian, I'm not an idiot. I am fully aware of what a nondisclosure agreement means." Ana interrupts him, suddenly irritable. Christian appears to be taken aback by both her tone and words, as if he had not anticipated Ana having teeth.

"Ana, I know you're not an idiot, and apologize if you think I was implying such. I simply assumed…"

Ana raises up a hand to silence him.

"You assumed I'm clueless because I'm twenty-two, and a recent college graduate. You may have also taken my tendency to be on the quiet side as a sign that I am timid, which I am not. Do you think the fact I often blush means I am innocent and unworldly? Well, I'm none of those, Mr. Grey."

Christian Grey's eyes narrow with each word that flies out of Ana's mouth. It is obvious he does not appreciate being interrupted, or used to anyone talking back to him, but at the moment Ana could not care any less. All she knows is that an NDA is proof you have a secret you are hiding, and the secret is usually bad. Remembering Kate's words again, Ana realizes Christian Grey's secret may be bad, really, really bad.

Letting out a deep breath, Christian appears to have reigned his temper back in. "Again, I am sorry if I led you to believe I had such ideas about you. I assure you that I do not,"

Ana picks up the pen and cocks her head to the side a bit, watching Christian's gaze try to analyze her thoughts.

"Don't worry, Mr. Grey. I am going to sign. But I'm only doing so because I'm dying to know what your secret is."

Ana can see her confidence and curiosity has caused Christian to ruminate over something, and she is confident he is sizing up whether he is still interested in allowing Ana to be aware of whatever this NDA is covering up.

Looking back at the document, Ana reads it carefully and scoffs to herself. She wonders if Elliot is correct; his brother's genitals may be as nonexistent as those of a Ken doll. The thought makes her giggle, and from the corner of her eye she notices Christian's furrowed brow. Ana knows he is curious about why she is giggling to herself.

_God, he had better have a dick._

After signing Christian's precious legal document, she passes his copy back and places hers into her purse, and pulls out her cell. Christian raises his eyebrows and looks like he is afraid she is calling for a ride home.

"I promised to text Kate once I got here," She says simply and Christian nods.

"Excuse me. I'll go see how much longer until dinner is done." Christian's tone is clipped but polite, and Ana knows he is not pleased, but neither is she. Signing a nondisclosure agreement on a first date is not exactly romantic.

The dinner is pleasant enough as they talk throughout their meal about virtually everything. Ana decides to not mull over the NDA mystery and finally relaxes, listening to Christian recount this past overseas business trip. Ana can hear Christian speaking and responds at the appropriate moments, but all she is actually thinking about is what his mouth would feel like all over her body. For a very long while, Ana has fantasized about the man sitting across from her, never taking into consideration that she would ever be in his apartment having dinner with him. Ana had never imagined she would garner the attention of such an incredibly gorgeous man, much less one that was a billionaire CEO.

_I wonder if he is farsighted?_

Ana politely declines dessert and watches Christian's housekeeper discreetly clean away the table. For a few moments in the dimly lit room, they both fall silent and stare at one another. Looking at Christian has Ana pressing her thighs together tightly, trying to still the quiver in between them.

As if he could read her mind, Christian stands, holding out his hand to her.

"Come." His voice is low and commanding.

Ana's senses alight as she takes his proffered hand, desire coursing through her veins as she imagines what is about to occur. What she is hoping is about to occur. Christian's fervent, burning gray eyes bore into Ana and she follows him to the staircase where she assumes his bedroom is located. Staring at Christian's back as they make their way up the stairs, Ana can smell the sex exuding from this man. She wants nothing more than him to be buried to the hilt inside her. She is already wet, and damn near panting with want.

Christian stops at a door at the end of the hallway, and takes his hand from Ana. Pulling out a key from his pocket, Christian lets out a deep breath as he unlocks the door. Christian is looking at Ana with apprehension and she begins to feel a slight unease tracing its way along her neck. Ana looks at Christian for an answer.

"Ana, what I'm about to show you is not intended to scare you. Please do not feel as if you cannot leave. You can take one look in here, turn around, and be taken home immediately. Whatever you think or do is fine."

Ana just stares at him, unable to ask him why. Suddenly, thousands of ominous scenarios are running around her head. All she can do is nod at him.

Opening the door and standing back to let Ana in, Christian switches on the lights. Before walking in the room, Ana gazes at him once more. Her stomach is in her throat with some unknown dread. Taking in a gulp of air, Ana slowly walks inside.

The first thing Ana takes in is that the room's décor looks like the one of The Mile High Club. The walls and even the ceiling are painted the exact shade of red that had covered the club's private ladies room.

Ana slowly makes her way further in the room, looking up at a cornice that covers the room's ceiling and is the source of a soft, ambient light. Then her eyes latch onto the room's centerpiece, a huge antique bed that has been covered in red leather. Looking up at the bed's immense canopy, Ana sees various chains and cuffs. Suddenly, the other pieces of furniture become irrelevant.

_Mother fucker._

There are rods on each wall with pegs that hold belts, whips, paddles, and riding crops, all of various sizes. Ana stares at the different width of each cane along one of the walls, imagining how terribly painful it would be if you were struck by one. Looking up, she sees iron grids on the ceiling, hanging from them are a variety of ropes, chains, and shackles. There are carabineers on the ceiling as well, spread out sporadically. Ana continues walking around the room with her arms crossed. Walking over to a large chest of drawers, she opens the top drawer where she finds an assortment of dildos and vibrators.

Of course, Ana knows what this room is about and what it says about Christian. She immediately feels an immense sense of disappointment. She had not envisioned this at all, and what she had hoped for with Christian will obviously not happen. She turns to where he is standing, and as she expected, he is gauging her every move and expression. Thankfully, Ana has remembered her poker face.

"Say something, Ana." Christian's voice is soft, but it still sounds like a command.

Quirking an eyebrow, Ana holds up a pair of metal handcuffs. "What shall I say, Marquis de Sade?"

Even Ana recognizes the disappointment in her voice.

"Not quite, Ana," Christian replies sardonically.

"Well, this is certainly sadism at its finest, Mr. Grey. Intimidating and frightening everywhere you look," Ana murmurs, while using a hand to gesture around the room.

"This is my playroom, Ana. No sadism is involved in here."

Ana gapes at his remark. What a blatant lie. She cannot help but wonder if he is lying to her or himself.

"I was once little, and had a playroom. It did not have a single pair of shackles or a St. Andrews cross in it. It was where I played, not where I spent time hurting people,"

The ghost of a smile Christian was wearing fell with her words.

"_My _playroom is about pleasure, Miss Steele. Not to hurt people,"

Christian is getting defensive and Ana can tell he does not appreciate having to defend what gives him his kicks.

"No, you use your red boudoir of torture to _hurt_ _women._" She hisses at him.

"No, this is not sadistic or masochistic. I'm a Dominant,"

Ana puts both hands up in a defensive position, numb from shock. "And you want me… as your submissive?"

Although her voice is hesitant and small, she continues looking Christian square in the eye.

Christian looks impressed, practically smug. "You're acquainted with BDSM, Miss Steele?"

"Hardly. But I had a human development class in college and we went to one of those clubs. I know what this is all about, and to be quite honest, I find it rather depressing that you want and enjoy hurting women,"

Ana is reeling from this colossal calamity that has befallen her.

"Let's take this to my study shall we?"

Christian holds out his hand for Ana to take, and actually looks hurt when she shakes her head no, refusing to take it.

Once again, Ana is following Christian through his maze of a house until they reach his study and he quietly shuts the door behind them. Ana sits in the over sized chair in front of his desk and eyes his decanter of brandy, she could use a fucking drink. Kate was right; he is dangerous.

"Can I at least tell you about my proposition?" he asks in a deceptively soft voice.

Ana shrugs, unable to look at him.

"It's true that I want you to become my submissive…"

Ana is one breath from being enraged.

"No, shit!" She yells at him.

Christian's face remains impassive and while Ana sees the storm brewing in his eyes, she continues.

"Christian, once again I will remind you. I am not naïve. A submissive is nothing short of her Dominants plaything, and when she does what he tells her to, she is rewarded in some fashion. But if she displeases him, he _punishes_ her, also known as beating the fuck out of her. Is that pretty accurate?"

Christian is running his hand through his hair in such a way Ana cannot believe he is not tearing it out from the roots. She has no idea what is going on in his head since Christian has not responded to her outcry, he looks like his own island state. Ana continues watching him.

Sighing softly and for some inexplicable reason, Ana softly says, "Show me the proposition."

Christian looks at Ana as if he is seeing her for the first time. His eyes are wide, unfocused, and confused; his expression showing he does not understand what she has said.

"I have a contract."

He almost sounds…embarrassed?

"You have a contract? You _contract _a woman to be your submissive?"

"Yes. I do."

Ana watches as Christian miraculously regains control of himself. It is an extraordinary metamorphose.

"May I see it?"

Christian opens a drawer in his desk, gets out a manila envelope, and passes it over to Ana, who frowns at the thickness of it.

"This is the contract I drew up for the two of us. Even though it has our names on it, it is the standard contract I have with all my submissives. The other pages inside are copies of acts the Dom and his sub will or will not do,"

Ana's face is like thunder. "You just put my name on a sex slave contract assuming I'd _jump_ right into this? How fucking dare you? Give me that fucking shit."

Leaning back into the chair, Ana starts reading through Christian's contract. The more of it she reads only shocks her further. Ana's stomach is doing somersaults and she feels a twinge of panic rising within her.

"You have _rules? Rules_, Christian? What _they _have to eat? How long _they _have to sleep? Work out? Have sex anytime, anyplace, anywhere you _demand _it? Did you come up with these on your own? Because if you did, then you're fucking nuts,"

"As a matter of fact, Miss Steele, I did. Those rules are for your benefit and my pleasure. If you adhere to them, I will be pleased and you will be rewarded. If you don't follow the rules, I will punish you as I deem fit, and you will learn." His whisper is like a shard of glass.


	6. Chapter 6

All rights to Fifty Shades of Grey belong to E.L. James.

_The sex in this chapter may be too extreme to some, but is a changing that had to occur._

_**A Study of Profound Change**_

Ana realizes Christian is enraged with her, feeling as if she has disrespected him. Even Christian's posture has changed, Ana can recognize it is meant to intimidate her, and it does.

_Got to love the judgment I made this man. _

Having no further desire to engaging in his staring contest, Ana looks around his office, taking note its void of anything personal, including any family photographs. Odd.

"Why don't you have any family photos in your house?" Ana asks him.

Ana sees Christian is completely perplexed at her question, one coming from left field, and one that is not remotely close to what they have been discussing.

"Is that really any of your business, Miss Steele?" He asks through gritted teeth.

"I suppose it isn't," Ana draws her legs up to the chair and wraps her arms around them. She has suddenly very wary of this man.

"You'd suppose correct, Miss Steele."

There is no way to miss the way Christian strangled out those words. Looking back at him, Ana notes a strange combination in his eyes, sadness mixed with anger. The former concern she had had for herself gives way to what, curiosity, sympathy…all for this man.

"Christian…?" Ana asks as she watches Christian Grey closing his eyes and clenching his jaws together.

_I think I am meeting his tenth personality._

"I don't know. I am not what you would describe as being close to my family. Maybe that is why I will not allow family pictures in this place. There's no place for my family here," His answer is but a whisper.

"Allow in this place? Your home…I…"

"I am not close to my family so they don't have to be close to me. To this."

Christian is staring at the study door and when he said, "to this" he gestured around himself.

Trying to choose her words wisely, Ana thinks she has gotten to the gist of what he is referring to.

_Here goes nothing._

"Christian…do you...do you mean because of what you do? The BDSM? That room…."

Ana nearly jumps out of the chair when Christian stands up, slamming both fists on his desk, only to knock everything on his desktop crashing across the room.

Christian begins hurling every close object at any given wall, and Ana can only get behind the large chair to hide, her arms wrapped protectively around herself as she starts to quietly sob in fear. For minutes that feel like hours, Ana listens as Christian Grey seemingly loses his mind. Screaming and cursing as he breaks everything in his study that is not nailed to the floor.

The study door suddenly swings open-It's Taylor. At first, his eyes are only on his employer, but then he sees Ana crouching behind the chair, now openly weeping.

"I don't know what I said that made him…."

"I know, ma'am. Calm down, I'll see to him."

Taylor begins leading Ana from the study when they are both stopped by Christian.

"Please, Ana. I'm so sorry."

He sounds like a broken toy, and Ana cannot stop herself from slowly turning her tear soaked face to look at Christian. He looks defeated, like a dog that has been kicked. The very sight of him causes Ana's heart to clench. During the course of a single evening, Ana has seen several different versions of Christian Grey. She does not know why or where to begin to understand, but her instinct is that they are all really one man, just a man that has been damaged.

_God, I hope this is not a bad idea._

"Taylor, I'll be okay with him. You can go."

Ana is quietly trying to speak while hiccupping through her drying tears. Nodding at her, Taylor leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. Ana and Christian stand in place and for a few long moments stare at one another. But it is Ana that makes the first tentative step toward Christian, watching him closely until she is standing in front of him. Christian is staring at Ana in bewilderment, as if she is a mythical creature he has heard about, but never really believed existed.

"I'm sorry," Ana whispers so softly she is not sure Christian even heard her. He is looking down into her face, an unfathomable look in his eyes while saying nothing.

If Ana thought about it, Christian could have been hanging his head in shame. Barely shaking his head at her, he softly places an index finger on her lips that are still wet from tears. Ana looks into a pair of gray eyes that are telling her a story, although she cannot figure out the plot. Christian's eyes are remorseful as he gazes down on Ana, conveying some message-gray to blue.

Christian uses his other hand to wipe away a tear lingering on Ana's cheek, how he saw it is a mystery because their eyes have not parted. Absolutely unsure of what has happened to her, or what alternate universe she has possibly entered, Ana slowly and cautiously raises a quaking hand to Christian's face and touches him ever so softly. With their eyes never breaking free from one another, Ana feels Christian faintly allow his head to lean into her hand, and as he does, Ana starts to gently and ever so slowly, bring his head down to her own.

_This feels right._

Studying his eyes intently, Ana tilts her head but infinitesimally, asking for his assent with her eyes. Christian blinks as Ana continues to barely pull his face down to hers, standing on her tiptoes in order to make contact with him, in order for their lips to meet. Ana hears Christian's breathing begin to alter.

Ana's eyes only close once her delicate mouth breathes across his mouth. Hearing a soft, guttural moan escape from Christian's throat, Ana subtly licks his bottom lip to allow her tongue entry into his mouth. Barely meeting, their tongues tenderly and tentatively begin to dance with one another. It is a slow and ephemeral dance. Ana breathes in, Christian breathes out. Christian, tasting Ana, softly groans and Ana feels his hand gently touching the small of her back.

Just with this one gentle touch, the compassion that had led Ana to this point, slowly unfurls into that desire she has carried for Christian all these months. That same desire drives her tongue to move with more force, to kiss him deeper. Ana clasps her hands on either side of Christian's face and then moves one in his hair, tugging on it. The second she begins to pull on his hair, it is as if Christian suddenly wakes up from a deep sleep.

Growling, but never breaking their kiss, he pushes Ana against the nearest wall and grabs both of her wrists with one of his hands, raising her arms over her head. His free hand has pulled her dress up to her waist, and he has worked a finger inside Ana's lace panties where he presses down on her clit.

_Oh, God help me._

Ana is panting, squirming to free her hands, and once she feels the warmth and pressure from Christian's finger, she nearly convulses. "Oh, please…Christian, Christian." Ana is begging him and throws back her head to give him easier access as his mouth moves along her jaw, his tongue making its way down her throat, murmuring words that Ana cannot comprehend. Her sense of hearing left long ago, she is nothing but sensation, drenched and ablaze, and all she can do is plead with this man she has craved for much too long. She revels in the fact that her body is at his mercy. Christian rips off the delicate lace which was her panties; they were in the way of what he craves.

"Fuck, Ana," Christian whispers as he returns to her mouth, grinding his erection into her stomach, while he roughly thrusts a finger inside her, over and over, causing Ana to scream and her legs go weak. "So fucking wet." He murmurs into her mouth as he is holding her up. Christian's breathing has quickened as he continues to fuck her with one of his fingers, then two. Ana cries out, "Oh, fuck…please"

Without letting go of her wrists, Christian swiftly turns Ana so that her back is to him. "This. Dress. Has. To. Go. He breathes on the back of her neck. Ana is digging her ass into his erection, searching for some sort of friction, groaning loudly. Christian all but tears the zipper from her dress and it falls around Ana's feet, leaving her only in her bra and wearing her stiletto heeled black boots. He stops touching her as he runs his eyes up and down her flawless skin, watching her squirm with need. "You look so fucking sexy," He murmurs in her ear. "Please…" Ana moans when he slowly licks her upper back, shoulder to shoulder.

_Finally._

Christian turns Ana back to face him, lowering her arms, but never releasing her wrists and slowly walks her to the large sofa in his study. Lowering Ana onto the sofa, Christian kneels in the floor and starts to slowly lick, kiss, and bite his way up one of her thighs, holding his free hand on Ana's lower abdomen in an attempt to still her. Ana, knowing what is about to happen, begins to buck her hips into his face and struggles in vain to free her wrists. Christian buries his face into her hairless pussy, slowly thrusting his tongue inside her. "Oh, baby. I'm going to fuck you with my tongue now." He whispers into her very core. Ana is groaning and panting as she is calling out his name. "Oh, fuck..., please."

Christian pulls his relentless tongue from Ana's pussy and moves it to her clitoris, licking it slowly, swirling it around and around, and sucking it. Ana is pushing her pussy into his face, pleading for him not to stop, her mind lost in a frenzy of incoherent thoughts. Christian can feel as Ana's body begins to tense from her rapidly approaching orgasm. He groans onto her clit and harshly inserts two fingers inside of her, sucking her swollen and rock hard clit while he is ferociously finger fucking her. Ana feels herself tighten around Christian's fingers, she knows what is coming and is begging for a release when her body is overtaken by the strongest orgasm of her life, shaking and continuing to grind her drenched pussy into Christian's face, screaming out his name.

Christian never stops his onslaught of sucking her clit or slamming his fingers inside Ana as she rides out her orgasm. He moves his mouth away for a moment but continues with his two fingers. "You're going to come into my mouth again, Ana." Once again swirling and licking her clit, causing Ana to practically thrash around on the sofa. Christian removes one of his fingers from Ana's pussy and easily slides it into her ass, causing Ana to moan in pleasure, as she meets his fingers thrust to thrust. Her body is singing from sensory overload. Abruptly, Christian slows the force of his fingers that he was using while fucking her ass and pussy simultaneously, his tongue slowing to a languid pace. Within mere minutes, Ana's body combusts once again into an orgasm that only allows her to barely mumble Christian's name.

Still floating down from her orgasm and with her eyes still closed, Ana suddenly feels Christian's warm and ragged breath on her ear. "Baby, are you on birth control?" His voice is hoarse and urgent. When Ana does not respond, Christian bites down on her earlobe and Ana meekly nods, "Yes…the, the shot." Ana is still panting, her breath coming out in quick short spurts, her eyes still closed.

It is only when she feels her thighs being spread open wide that Ana opens her eyes. Looming above her is Christian, who at some point removed his pants and boxers and is looking down at her with eyes full of lust. He is between her legs and she can feel the head of his cock at the edge of her soaked pussy. Christian's chest is heaving and Ana looks down between her legs to gaze at his impressive cock, biting her bottom lip, she gazes back in Christians burning gray eyes.

"Fuck me, Christian…please…now," Ana barely gasps out, throwing her head back, squirming with the need for him to fill her.

_I need him inside me._

When Christian remains still between her legs and does not respond, Ana's eyes fly open and she looks up at him. This is when Ana vaguely realizes her hands are resting on each side of her head now, but Christian is still holding them down by her wrists, using both his hands.

"What's wrong? Christian? What is it?" Ana is confused with his behavior and somewhat irritated from wanting him to fuck her.

For some reason, Christian is shaking his head and his face looks as if he is pained.

Ana has to struggle as she tries to raise herself up due to Christians grip on both of her wrists.

_Why won't he let go of my god damned wrists?_

"Christian? Did I do something? Please, look at me,"

Despite whatever is the matter with Christian and is causing his bizarre behavior, Ana begins to press on the tip of his cock, hoping to slide herself onto him. But Christian pulls away from her.

"What is the matter, Christian?" All thoughts of fucking have left Ana's mind, all she wants now is answers from the man between her legs who is shaking his head while his eyes are closed.

Ana says nothing else and lays her head back down, her blue eyes still looking at Christian in hopes that he eventually ends this odd behavior.

_Why didn't he take off his shirt?_

Just as Ana is about to tell Christian to let go of her so she can get up, he finally starts talking but is looking straight ahead.

"Ana…I…Ana, I don't do this," His words rush out like a breath of air.

Now, Ana is completely perplexed.

"You don't do what, Christian? What does 'this' refer to? Not using a condom? I don't understand and why haven't you let go of my arms?" She asks in a soft voice.

"I don't do it this way. This is not me or the way I have sex. I've never fucked a woman this way," He sounds as if he is humiliated by his own truth.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh,"

"But you just…"

"I don't know why I allowed that to happen. You suddenly stripped my self-control away,"

_Is he angry?_

Christian continues to stare off into a faraway place, appearing to be stuck there, appearing lost.

More time passes and neither one has dared to speak, each for their own reasons. Those reasons they both do not understand.

Once more, Ana takes the first tentative step.

"Christian, can I get up? Can you let go of me now? My wrists hurt. It may be best if I just go home,"

She is speaking to him in a soft, soothing voice meant for a child.

Christian swallows hard and finally looks down at Ana with shame emitting from his beautiful gray eyes.

"I know your wrists hurt. I've left marks on them."

He says this in a plain matter of fact tone. A tone that is perfectly modulated precisely inflected, with no discernible emotion.

Ana does not ignore the nagging sense of panic caused by Christian's words, spoken in a flat tone, but without malice. Realizing this precarious situation could easily erupt into chaos; she simply concentrates on her breathing and tears her eyes away to shield herself from Christian's torn expression that is still on her, burning through her, while he is still gripping her wrists.

_Shit._

"What do you expect from me?"

Christian's voice startles Ana, but she still avoids looking at him.

"I don't expect anything from you,"

"Ana, I'm not normal. I'm this way because I need to be," Christian's words are a long broken groan.

"I'm not sure what you mean, but you shouldn't…"

"Shouldn't what?"

"Be so hard on yourself,"

Ana is whispering because she does not know what she's dealing with. She has watched him go from one extreme to the next and is so confused right now that she could cry. Christian is silent for a moment before he replies.

"I'm fucked up, but I know that I am. I know I disappointed you tonight, and now I am afraid you are scared of me. You can't even look at me,"

The blatant and poignant sadness that just fell from the lips of Christian Grey break Ana's heart. Her crystal blue eyes fill with tears that slide down her cheeks, as she looks straight into those beautiful gray eyes.

"Christian, I'm not afraid of you,"

"How can you not be? You saw me earlier; that is the real Christian Grey. Ana, I lured you here, after weeks of seducing you so you would want me, so you would submit to me. I have come to see you as a person, not an object. I took advantage of your simple goodness. Only a monster would do that." Disgust, shame, and self-loathing coat Christian's words.

Hearing Christian's admission, his confession, Ana cannot help from feeling like a fool, but just by looking at Christian Grey, she is acutely aware that he is mangled, twisted soul that is grasping onto hope.

_I can soothe his torture._

"Christian, please come down to me. I need for you, too. I want you, too."

_This may be wrong or a profound mistake. It may be a life-changing, horrible mistake, but I have to try._

Christian's eyes stare down at her wide and puzzled, yet he does not move while shutting his eyes once more, and shaking his head.

"Ana, I can't. Bringing you here, showing you that room…my depravity has tainted you, and you will never understand my regret for doing that to you,"

_He has loosed his grip on my wrists._

Ana shakes her head vigorously, her brunette hair fanned out around her, a tangled mess.

_His mind may be filled with regret, but his body is not; he has never lost his erection._

"Christian, stop this. You have not tainted me, hush with these words…please…come to me, please."

Ana's tears have started again, gently rolling out from the corners of her eyes. Ana begins to outright sob, attempting in vain to do so inaudibly but fails miserably, her body shaking from her weeping. Ana is utterly bereft and torn at what to do-the _right _thing to do.

Christian suddenly groans and falls onto Ana, burying his face in her hair. Still weeping, a bemused Ana jumps slightly, as Christian begins kissing her hair, her face, finally her lips.

"I want you so much, Ana," he quietly breathes into her mouth and gently forces her legs apart.

"I want you too." Ana softly replies.

Christian's tongue is in her mouth now, desperate and unrelenting, making Ana instantly wet. The room is suddenly filled with the sounds made by their ragged breathing and soft groans. Christian bites the side of Ana's neck, causing her to cry out as she frantically tries to slide herself onto his cock. Making his way down to Ana's breast that are still covered by her bra, Christian uses his teeth to push up one of its cups and moans, before he begins to greedily suck on her nipple, causing Ana to yell out.

"Christian! Oh…please," She can feel him smiling on her breast.

"What do you want, Ana?"

Christian's cock is somehow perfectly positioned to her entrance and he slowly pushes the tip in and then stops. His breathing is erratic like Ana's, and she can see that Christian's self-control is faltering.

"Tell me, Ana. What do you fucking want?" His voice strained as he listens to her moaning loudly.

"I want you to fuck me. Fuck me, please," Her words are barely coherent; she is only able to moan, to pant.

Christian eases into her slowly making Ana moan.

"Oh…God." She breathes, as he completely fills her with the biggest cock that has ever fucked her.

Christian slowly pulls back, only to slowly and deliberately push back inside her. He does this several times, looking straight into Ana's eyes, sweat from his forehead dripping down onto her stomach. "You. Feel. Like. A. Velvet. Glove," Christian groans, causing Ana to struggle to free her wrists and raise her hips up so he will fill her again.

"Please, I can't take this. Please, Christian, fuck me!" Ana is panting hard, moaning loudly, and begging him. "God! Do it now, Christian…I,"

Christian's hungry mouth lands back on her nipple, biting it harshly and slamming his cock into her at the same time. Ana's screams out-from his cock slamming into her and the bite of her nipple, and she immediately comes around his cock. Christian's thrusts speed up, and he groans into Ana's neck. Her hips are meeting his as he continues slamming into her, pounding his cock into Ana harder and faster. Placing his mouth over hers, Christian bites her bottom lip hard, causing Ana to cry out.

Christian's rhythm never stops or slows down. His breathing is hard as he crams his tongue into Ana's mouth forcefully and begins sucking her tongue. Over and over, he drives his cock deeply in Ana's pussy as if from desperation. Ana's slamming her hips up to his, causing his cock to fill her to the hilt as it stretches her pussy. She can feel herself running down her ass and coating Christian's balls as he slams them against her.

"Oh, harder…Christian…fuck,"

Ana can feel it building, her body heating up as the sensation begins sliding down her body, groaning and thrashing her head side to side.

"Oh, oh, God," Ana manages to garble, but Christian just does not stop. If anything, he is thrusting harder and faster as Ana's walls start clenching his cock in a vice grip, Christian sounds as if he is growling.

"Christian!" Ana's orgasm is so intense it has left her body shaking so hard, it is as if she's convulsing. Ana throws her head back, continuing to cry out as Christian is still fucking her harder, prolonging her orgasm.

"I know, baby," he is breathless and sweating all over her when his mouth is back on her nipple, sucking hard and still thrusting hard into her.

Ana is barely meeting him now, she is spent and splintered from this fuck, these orgasms. Moaning and whimpering while Christian chases his own orgasm, but she's still aroused and pouring around him as she hears the noises he's making and knowing how frenzied he is because of her pussy.

Ana feels Christian gripping her wrists harder at the very moment his bites her nipple painfully, and with one deep thrust; Christian explodes inside her, calling out her name and collapses on top of her.

They both remain like that, with Christian still inside her. Their erratic breathing eventually slows down, until it is nonexistent and normal again. Christian finally moves off Ana's body, and much to her surprise, he is looking at her sheepishly. She smiles at him, her hair a drenched mess and her face a blazing flush. Christian's returning smile takes Ana's breath away.

"Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?" His voice expresses sincere concern.

Ana shakes her head, blue eyes shining. "God, no. That was life changing,"

Christian raises his eyebrows. "Life changing?" He is still smiling and looks pleased.

"Yes. Life affirming as well," She is staring very boldly into his beautiful gray eyes.

"I think I've been waiting for that my entire life." Ana says.

Christian pushes off of her, finally freeing her wrists and gets up, pulling down the cup of her bra to cover her breast.

Standing up to his full height and still smiling, Christian looks down to the sofa where Ana is still lying, wearing only her bra and those fucking black boots.

"I think I've been waiting for that my entire life, too." He softly says.


	7. Chapter 7

All rights to Fifty Shades of Grey are owned by E. L. James.

_I have been asked by several readers about ages, years, etc. I apologize that I have forgotten to answer you all. From now on I will post the month and year at the top of the chapter. I also went back and added them to the earlier chapters. I posted the following below for the readers who asked me too._

_Ana initially meets Christian at the photo shoot in May of 2011. Same month and year as FSoG_

_Ana and Christian are same ages as in FSoG when they first meet, she is twenty-one and he is twenty-seven_

_Ana and Kate graduate WSU May of 2011 and move to Seattle in June 2011_

_Ana's birthday remains in September and Christian's remains in June_

_Ana and Christian meet again eight months later in January of 2012, making Ana twenty-two and Christian twenty-eight. _

_**It's Strange What Desire Makes Foolish People Do**_

_**November 8**__**th**_

Ana had once again been robbed of sleep and a Crystal Gayle song kept running through her head, "_It's two o'clock in the morning, and it looks like it's gonna be another sleepless night…" _

With the lyrics stuck in her mind Ana remembered hearing that song on one of Carla's vinyl albums and singing into her hairbrush, pretending it was a microphone. That was a happy memory Ana would always have.

Ana had been awake since after one in the morning and eventually said fuck it around two-thirty and went into her study. Sitting behind her desk, Ana had finally made a decision that had been running through her mind for a long while. Perhaps exhaustion drove her to this point, for all intents and purposes, it was pointless, but having a _what the hell _moment, Ana grabs a piece of her heavy cream colored stationary monogrammed _ASG _and a cheap PaperMate pen. The pen was hovering above the paper because Ana did not know what she wanted to say, or if she actually wanted to say anything at all. After chewing on the pen's cap for a minute or so, she finally put pen to paper and let all of her feelings bleed all over it.

_Dear Christian,_

_If you're reading this… _

_**May 12**__**th**__**, 2012**_

"_**Before me stands Christian and Anastasia who have joined their souls together in Holy wedlock. In doing so, they have chosen to provide companionship, love and support to each other during both the happy and difficult moments of life and marriage. **_

_**They have declared their perpetual love to each other before their family and friends gathered here and before the almighty God. They have promised their solemn love by exchanging rings and joining hands as they prepare to walk through life together. **_

_**In the name of the Holy Spirit and the powers vested in me by God and man, I pronounce you husband and wife.**_

_**Let no one put asunder those that have been joined together today in the presence of almighty God. **_

_**Christian, you may now kiss your bride." **_

_~After a kiss that lingered a bit too long, Christian only came up for air due to the thundering applause that filled his childhood church. The shining adoration Anastasia saw glittering in Christian's eyes caused all of her love for this man to spill out through a huge, beaming smile. A smile Ana had only met when Christian Grey wrapped her inside of his love~_

_**February 2012**_

Anastasia Steele walked into Christian Grey's white fortress on that cold Friday evening and never left. Katherine had called every other minute that weekend but stopped when Elliot possibly duct taped to the wall. That Sunday afternoon Ana insisted she needed to go home because she had no work clothes for the following day. But before six that evening, Christian had gifted Ana an entirely new wardrobe, from the most expensive underwear to shoes she couldn't even pronounce, proclaiming that now she had no reason to go home that night. Ana might have put up more of a fight if Christian hadn't kept her occupied in bed the entire weekend, sated from all the sex and still utterly perplexed as to why he held her wrists each time, and irked that he would never answer her when she questioned him.

That weekend had left Ana overwhelmed from information overload. Christian's home was not an apartment but a huge palatial palace that seemed to go on forever. Ana learned the place was covered with CCTV cameras and a security office manned by Taylor, who also happened to reside there. Christian also had two other live-in employees, another CPO who was none other than Reynolds, the hulk who had taken Ana to the hospital when she her sprained ankle. Then there was also Mrs. Gail Taylor, Christian's cook and housekeeper who happened to be Taylor's wife. Ana immediately took to Gail's kind and motherly personality and the women were quickly on a first-name basis, which Christian did not approve of. While Gail got every weekend off, Taylor was a constant presence and Ana wondered if the man ever slept.

At the end of that weekend, Ana knew everything about the life that revolved around Christian Grey, but not much about the man himself. She had already had a front row seat about how rashly his moods could change, but that wisp of mind-numbing madness never reappeared again.

All Ana knew for sure was that Christian was too wealthy, beyond handsome, complicated, and mercurial. He also seemed easily perturbed with change, no matter how mundane it would appear to anyone else. Take her first night there as an example. Christian was out of sort about sleeping in the same bed as Ana, and she could tell that it was seriously pissing him off. She was completely bewildered by his behavior and was not sure if it was appropriate to laugh or cry at his obvious distress.

"You know I can always sleep in a guest room,"

Ana knew she was staring at him as if he had two heads; this was one puzzling situation, but witnessing his discomfort, Ana felt the need to let him off the hook.

"No, it will be fine. I'm just not used to sleeping with anyone."

"What about your subs?"

Shaking his head no, Christian absentmindedly mumbled, "They had their own room."

"I see,"

Christian was running both hands through his gorgeous hair. Ana saw his exasperation and felt an emotion rolling off of his body - despondency? Christian finally reached for her hand and led her into his bedroom, all pale blue and reminiscent of the sea. Digging through of one of his drawers, he brought out a tee shirt, handing it to Ana.

"I know you don't have any sleep wear, so you can wear this if you'd like."

Christian was obviously in some sort of struggle to sound as if he was okay with his given situation. Ana burned for him to expound on what was going on in his mind and what brought about this palpable fear that seemed as if it was embedded within him. Ana's mind had always favored sensible rationale and knew that everyone carried ghosts inside their soul, so she did not pursue an explanation.

Ana she took his tee shirt and nodded, heading to the bathroom that Christian was pointing out to her. Quickly changing, Ana giggled to herself as she used Christian's toothbrush when he suddenly opened the bathroom door, only clad in a pair of pajama pants that barely clung to his hips. She did not think he could look any hotter, but then saw his upper body decorated with long since healed circular scars. Ana quickly averted her eyes. She was not going to gape at them or make him feel self-conscious.

"Feel free to use my toothbrush, Anastasia,"

His earlier mood was gone and he was back to wearing that panty wetting smile. Ana only shrugged.

"Would you prefer I had bad breath, Mr. Grey?"

"Turn around,"

Ana blinked at him in bewilderment, but then assumed Christian wanted to fuck her from behind as she held onto the sink. Barely able to contain a flirtatious smile, Ana bit down on her lower lip.

"Why?"

"Just do it,"

With greedy and lascivious eyes, Ana watched in the mirror as he stalked toward her. Taking her by surprise, Christian pulled her hair causing her head to tilt back a bit. It was just painful. He then began to expertly French braid her hair and Ana saw that he even held an elastic hair band. Okay, what is this?

"Why are you braiding my hair, Christian?"

"Because I can,"

"That doesn't mean I wanted you to braid it."

In what felt like three seconds, Christian was finished.

"Impressive. Maybe I should call you Vidal Sassoon,"

"Get in the bed, Anastasia."

"But why did…"

"Anastasia, go get in the bed."

Christian's eyes bore into her with unuttered lust and his low and husky order left no room for question. The corners of Ana's lips turned up with a small coquettish grin and practically skipped to his bed. Christian's naked body slid over hers, kissing her deeply, and raising her arms over her head by her wrists. The reason why Christian had braided her hair was long forgotten.

_**March 2012**_

The next month was as close to heaven as Ana thought she would ever reach. She already knew Christian was gorgeous and sexy, but she was now finding out that he was brilliant, hysterically funny, and highly unpredictable. From tearing Ana out of a perfectly good sleep at four in the morning so Christian could take her soaring, to finding herself being flown in his very own helicopter that he piloted himself. One day he told Ana that if she got a sudden urge to shop on Rodeo Drive, Christian's private jet could easily accommodate her. Ana was not sure if that was to said to impress her or to tell her she owned shit for clothes.

Ana was astutely aware that Christian had no point of reference when it came to relationships and romance. If Ana had not had two serious and long-term relationships, this budding one with Christian would have shriveled up and died. But Ana learned the hard way about ex boyfriends and Christian Grey.

One night, Christian had taken her out to dinner at an intimate French restaurant. They were tucked in a small corner and having a lovely and romantic night out when Ana heard a male's voice saying her name.

Looking at her with a huge grin on his face was none other than Riley. Ana smiled back at her former flame and then felt Christian release her hand that he had been holding.

"It's so great to see you here! Seems like it's been ages,"

Riley had always been so sweet and good-natured that Ana wanted to stand up and properly greet him, but she was already imaging the smoke leaking out of Christian's ears.

"It's good to see you, too. May I introduce my boyfriend, Christian Grey? Christian, this is Riley Stough,"

Ever a jealous asshole, Christian explained exactly how he felt with one glance at Ana, but did stand up to shake Riley's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stough."

Ana nearly broke out in giggles the second she said her boyfriend was Christian Grey and Riley's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"It's great to meet you, Mr. Grey. I apologize for interrupting your meal, but I was waiting on my date and spotted Ana, so I wanted to come and say hi,"

"No reason to apologize, Riley. How are you? Is grad school still kicking your ass?"

Ana cannot help but laugh at her own question with Riley laughing along with her. Christian has set back down and leaning back in his chair staring at Riley, his face impassive. He was definitely not laughing.

"I'm doing well, and yeah, school is the same. How about you? Have you taken the publishing world by storm yet?"

"I'm well. I don't know about taking publishing by storm, but I do love my job."

"That's awesome, Ana. I always knew you'd land your dream job,"

Ana smells Christian's burning anger as it crosses the table, but she refuses to be rude to Riley.

"Oh, I see Robin coming out of the ladies room, so I better catch up with her before she thinks I left her,"

"It was good seeing you, Riley. Take care."

"You too, Ana. Mr. Grey, once again it was a pleasure to meet you,"

"The pleasure has been all mine, Mr. Stough."

Riley was barely out of their sight before Ana heard what sounded like a guttural growl escaping Christian's throat. His eyes had gone from gray to green, showing that he was full of boiling jealousy and his laser vision set on Ana.

"Who was that, Ana? Who. In. The. Fuck. ?"

Ana was so stunned with Christian's immature reaction that she just stared at him.

"Answer me, Anastasia. Who is your _friend_? You were quite pleased to see him," "

Ana threw her napkin on the table. She had done nothing wrong and Christian had witnessed that with his own eyes, even if they were clouded by irrational jealousy.

"I met Riley in college and we were in a relationship for quite awhile. He is in graduate school here and we went out a few times when I first moved to Seattle. Is that enough information, Mr. Grey?"

"So I just shook hands with a guy that has had his dick inside you?" If Christian's voice had not been so menacing Ana would have laughed.

"Christian that was crude and an inappropriate thing for you to say to me. I'm done with this conversation,"

"Well, I'm far from done. When was the last time you've seen him since you've been in Seattle?"

Ana sighed deeply. She knew Christian had hold of a bone and was not going to let it go, but his ridiculous expression of frost only spurred her on to challenge him.

"Two or three times, I think. It was long before I met you. Why can't you let this go? How do I know when I run into one of your previous subs? I don't know if I do, isn't that right?"

Silence.

"Anastasia, the thought of any man touching you, kissing you, fucking what is now mine fills me with rage. Now I have been face to face with a man that has. I want to kill him,"

Christian's voice has softened and seems - apologetic? Reaching across the table, Christian takes her hands into one of his.

"You were right. What I said to you was out of line and inappropriate" I apologize."

Ana studies Christian's face, her blue eyes taking in every detail searching for sincerity and replaying his apology in her head. Yes, it is there. He meant what he said and although she feels agonizing jealousy when she walks by that locked room, she never goes thermonuclear about it. Ana realizes all of _that _was before her.

"I accept your apology and I want you to understand that you're it for me,"

Christian stares at her with a dubious expression, but nods at her and smiles his shy smile that she has come to love.

"Are we having dessert?"

Christian's eyes glitter at Ana's innocent question.

"We'll have dessert at home, Miss Steele. You are going to dessert,"

Christian stands and reaches for her hand. Ana's insides tighten at his low and husky voice and what his words imply.

"Lead the way, Mr. Grey."

Christian was as intense as he was competent. He was quietly philanthropic and ragingly loud in the boardroom. Each of these contrasting characteristics only made Ana love him more. Love him, Ana pondered. Yes, yes, I do. From the outstanding sex, to his quick-witted humor, a kindness he shows just a few, his generosity… Ana knew she could probably list her reasons all day. What Ana really wanted to know is if he loved her as well.

Ana eventually found out that the large company that had purchased SIP was none other than GEH, also known as Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. While she was not comfortable with the thought of living with the company's new owner, she could not get angry with Christian since he bought the company long before getting involved with her. In one swift move, SIP was Grey Publishing, and as he promised, he never interfered with her career. Ana sardonically thought Christian would eventually own every business in Seattle.

Ana had not been living with Christian for very long when he hired her a CPO, another hulking man named Luke Sawyer. Sawyer was 6'4 and probably 190 pounds. Despite his intimidating appearance and no nonsense way of protecting Ana, she could see that he was also quietly kind.

But when Christian put security on Ana she became incensed, feeling it was ridiculous and completely unnecessary. This conversation quickly accelerated into a loud and contentious fight. Ana refused to see a reason that required Luke Sawyer to essentially follow her every move, even setting up his own place inside Grey Publishing. Christian took Ana into his arms and murmured in her hair that he couldn't stand the thought of her being harmed and he would always protect her, no matter how many fits Ana had over it. Plus, he warned her that the second the media saw them together, they would be all over it until they found out who Ana was and everything about her.

It turned out he was correct. In a mere matter of days as the couple strolled hand in hand in downtown Seattle the local media descended upon them, shouting questions at them both, asking Christian the identity of who he was walking with and blinding Ana with camera flashes. Ana was initially shocked by their interest in who she was until she had a sudden epiphany; they were so fascinated with her because Christian had never been seen with a woman. The thought depressed her. The swarm of media soon became too large for Taylor and Sawyer to handle no matter how many times they elbowed a photographer in the face. Before she knew it, Ana was flanked by Ryan and Reynolds. Christian gripped her hand even tighter as if to reassure her. The onslaught only ended when they reached Escala.

The first time Christian took Ana to his childhood home to introduce her to his parents, she was too nervous to even speak. Her only saving grace from acting like a complete idiot was that Kate would be there too. When they arrived, both of his parents were on the porch waiting to greet them, wearing beaming smiles as Christian introduced Ana to Carrick and Grace Grey. Christian's mother Grace enveloped Ana in a warm embrace and led Ana into the foyer. Just as Grace released Ana from her arms, Ana saw a gorgeous, brown-eyed young woman barreling toward her. Seconds later, this young lady had Ana engulfed in a death grip and was screeching in her ear.

"CHRISTIAN! She is gorgeous! Where have you been hiding her?"

"Mia, let her go, you're choking her to death. Anastasia, this is my little sister Mia,"

Letting Ana go, Mia began to excitedly clap her hands. Her mood was infectious and Ana could not help but grin back.

"It is so wonderful to meet you, Anastasia. He has never brought anyone home before!"

"Please, call me Ana,"

Christian cleared his throat and gave a small push on Ana's lower back to move them from the foyer. Looking around at the lovely and comfortable surroundings, Ana agreed with Kate's assessment; it felt like a real home, despite its opulence. Everyone entered into the living room where Elliot and Kate were cuddling on the sofa. Suddenly, Ana was being lifted off her feet and spun around by the sunshine that is Elliot Grey while Kate laughed loudly.

"Give her to me, you big oaf! She's my best friend!"

Christian looked at his older brother reproachfully, not amused that Elliot had placed his hands on Ana. Elliot winked at Christian, but once their mother turned her back, he flipped him off with an amused smirk on his face. Ana watched the brothers with fascination-two polar opposites.

Christian and Ana joined Elliot and Kate on the sofa where the young women began whispering in each other's ear about a girl's night out, while Elliot and Christian started making predictions about the Mariners upcoming season. Ana had not missed the cool reception Kate had given Christian or that Christian had made it very clear that he did not like her. Ana knew that Kate still did not trust or like Christian Grey, but she had chosen to keep her mouth shut for both Elliot and Ana's sake.

Christian's family was warm and friendly, and apparently approved of both Ana and Kate. The Grey's were already acquainted with Kate's family, so the majority of time was spent getting to know Ana. Never being one to enjoy the spotlight of scrutiny, when a few of Mia's questions delved too far into Ana's unsettled upbringing, Kate rushed to her best friend's rescue, either deflecting the question all together, or answering for her. Ana felt herself under Christian's watchful eye, and when she acknowledged him Ana saw his curiosity over Kate's behavior.

In the middle of pre dinner drinks, the doorbell chimed and the family maid led in a stunning older woman. As soon as the woman entered the room, all three men immediately stood up due to years of ingrained manners. The woman was quite tall and wore her platinum blonde hair in a short bob and was dressed entirely in black.

"Mrs. Lincoln has arrived," The maid announced.


	8. Chapter 8

All rights to Fifty Shades of Grey belong to E.L. James.

_**All Lies**_

_**March 2012**_

Grace was already beaming at the woman in black even before they did the usual rich women air kiss stupidity. At least that is what Ana and Kate had always referred to it as.

"Elena, I'm so glad you were able to make it. I have got two wonderful young women for you to meet. This beautiful blonde woman is Katherine Kavanagh and the beautiful woman beside her is Anastasia Steele. Kate, Ana, this is my dearest friend, Elena Lincoln. Elena, we'll have to ensure these lovely young women become your newest clients,"

Mrs. Lincoln glanced around the room, her eyes taking in both Ana and Kate, obviously assessing them. Ana watched this Mrs. Lincoln politely smile at them both - is that a look of superiority Ana can see in her piercing blue eyes? Neither woman returned the smile. Ana felt Kate nudge her foot, as they remained sitting. This was Kate's way of telling her she saw it as well. Elliot and Christian, ever the gentlemen, remained standing.

"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you both. I am Elena Lincoln, Grace's best friend and a long time family friend. Grace is right, you must visit one of my salons, and each is named Esclava. We offer every wonderful treatment a woman desires," This woman's voice is soft but full of arrogance. Ana's initial thought was right - What a bitch. Ana continued to stare at the woman, but it was Kate who answered her in a strong and confident voice.

"We will certainly consider it. Thank you,"

To let this bitch know she was dismissing her, Kate turned back to Ana, eyes a bit opened widened and leaned into her.

"Now, that's a cunt."

Mrs. Lincoln began working the room, saying polite, but hollow greetings to Carrick, Elliot, and Mia. But then Ana and Kate watched in fascination as Morticia Adams' entire demeanor transformed, as a dazzling and warm smile appeared on her face as she approached Christian, who grins back at her widely. Unlike the impersonal greetings she gave the other Grey's, Mrs. Lincoln kisses both of Christian's cheeks and rests her hands on his upper arms, and he does not as much flinch from her touch. Ana felt like she had been punched in the kidney and let out a small gasp. Kate's head turned to Ana in question and mouthed, "What?"

Ana subtly shook her head and whispered she would tell her later. Watching the man she'd been sharing a bed with for over three weeks, having to sleep with her back to him in case she accidentally touched his chest, upper arms, or back, along with having her arms pinned over her head during sex, Ana could not quit staring as Christian not only allowed, but was unfazed that this Lincoln woman had a hold of his upper arms as they stood smiling at one another and talking animatedly together. Whatever this meant, Ana knew it was not good and that her face must have been giving her feelings away since she could feel Kate's steady gaze on her.

Grace announces dinner and the family make their way to the formal dining room. Christian must have suddenly remembered Ana's presence because he finally stopped and turned in an attempt to take her hand. Having not missed a second of Christian's inappropriate behavior that has visibly upset Ana, Kate takes her hand and stares at him in defiance. Ana makes no effort to remove her hand, her blue eyes, truculent and explicative, boring into Christian's gray orbs that offer no explanation, or acquiescing to any wrongdoing. Tugging on Ana's hand, both women walk past him while Elliot calls out for Kate to wait on him.

The ride from Bellevue to downtown Seattle was as long and uncomfortable as dinner had been. Taylor ushered Ana into the backseat of the SUV. Buckling her seatbelt, Christian slid in alongside her and stared at her profile in the dark. Ana was upset, confused, furious, but above all she was hurt. Knowing that Christian was watching her and probably trying to read her thoughts, Ana turned and stared out the window, thinking that he should have showed her some attention at dinner.

"Are you speaking to me, Ana?"

Ana does not bother answering him; her head is running through too many unexplained scenarios. Let us see, Ana thinks, let me make a list of this strange, and fucked up situation and see if I can find an answer.

1\. They were too affectionate with one another; oddly enough his family paid no heed. I take this to mean their behavior is not out of the norm.

2\. Christian allowed this Cruella de Ville creature kiss him on his face twice, upon arriving and when she left.

3\. Christian allowed the same Cruella de Ville creature to touch and repeatedly rub his upper arms, a no go area where Ana is concerned.

4\. Christian seemingly forgot he'd brought his live in girlfriend to dinner since he started making his way to the dining room without ever looking back to escort Ana.

5\. Christian and the Cruella de Ville creature sat beside one another at the table, mainly speaking to one another the entire dinner.

6\. Ana was not quite sure Christian had ever smiled so happily at her or even held a conversation as long with her as he had with Cruella de Ville. Again, the Grey's never appeared as if such behavior was strange. At least Kate watched it all happen too and had the same shocked realization.

7\. Christian barely glanced at Ana and when their eyes did meet, he averted them quickly. A few times, Ana thought she recognized shame. Hmm.

8\. During the entire meal, Christian barely took part in any of the conversation involving Ana, nor did he appear to show any interest in doing so. This was when Ana noticed Grace finally looking between Christian, Ana, and Cruella de Ville, who blatantly acted as if Ana did not exist.

9\. Conclusion? Nothing definitive, but clearly fucked up.

Ana's process of deduction was interrupted by Christian's voice. His words with terse and exhibited an attempt to keep a controlled calm.

Ana absolutely did not give a fuck.

"Anastasia, Do I need to ask you again?"

Turning her head in a deliberately slow and bored fashion, Ana still did not answer Christian, but refused to break the stare down they were currently having. Christian was running both hands in his hair and looked away, leaning back on the headrest. Without hesitation and feeling zero intimidation from the king of intimidation himself, Ana wet her dry lips before speaking in a quiet but steadfast voice.

"I am not going to ask anything. You can fess up if you feel the need, but I refuse to ask,"

Christian sat up very quickly frowning. Despite that they were shrouded in darkness, Christian anxiously looks in Ana's face. If he could see her face clearly he would be looking at a blank canvas waiting to be painted upon with his answers, explanations, and apologies.

"You aren't going to ask what? I do not understand riddles or attempt to figure out people who speak in code."

Whatever anxiety Ana might have thought Christian was feeling dissipated with the frost on his tongue. At this point in the weeks they had spent together, Ana had the tones and voices in which Christian spoke to people, practically figured out. She was totally aware his words were meant to inflict a form of hurt and to cause doubt in Ana's mind. Yes, his words did hurt her-but they also told her something; to try and plant doubt in her head, meant Christian knew exactly what Ana was wondering, but refused to ask.

"Good for you, Mr. Grey, Taylor?"

"Yes, ma'am,"

"Take me to my apartment, please."

See, Ana. You can sound pleasant even if you are in the backseat with a man who is now so fucking pissed off you can physically feel it. Taylor did not answer her straightway and Ana caught his eyes in the rear view mirror, she knew it was his way of asking Christian to do so.

Ana was not having any of that.

"Don't look at your boss for him to approve if you can take me home. If you don't drive me to my apartment, I'll jump out of this vehicle at the next stop sign,"

Christian expressed his anger with a whistle he blew between his teeth. Ana had already gotten her cell phone out and was texting Kate.

"What the fuck, Anastasia! What is your goddamn problem?"

Christian's voice roared inside the SUV causing Ana to jump, but not causing her to back down.

"Mr. Grey, I've told you numerous times to call me Ana, not Anastasia. So as of this moment your confusion over my request shall be my problem,"

"Taylor, it's late and I do have work in the morning. Kate is waiting up for me and she has to get up early as well. If you would not mind, hurry up, please."

Ana watched Taylor. Beside her, Christian was slouched in the backseat looking out the window. Ana was floored by the silent message Christian was sending by refusing to acknowledge what occurred at his parent's home. For the rest of the drive to her apartment, complete silence filled the vehicle, only to be broken once Taylor pulled in front of the apartment she shared with Kate. Taylor was helping Ana from the backseat when Christian finally spoke.

"Are you seriously doing this, Ana?"

Ana only answered Christian once she was out of the vehicle. Her face was illuminated by a streetlight.

"Well, you seriously don't want to fess up. Right, Christian?"

Once again, Christian did not utter a solitary syllable, he only sighed.

"Just as I thought. Goodnight, Taylor,"

Ana walked to the building and let herself in, where Kate was waiting for her, looking concerned, but her information radar was up and running. Ana kicked off her shoes and tossed her purse on the table.

"Where is Elliot?"

Ana whispered and looked around the room. Kate walked over to her and grabbed both her hands.

"He's passed out drunk in my bedroom. Seems like him and Carrick enjoy bourbon a bit too much. I didn't mention a word of this to him, I swear,"

"I know that you wouldn't."

Kate closed the distance between them, until the tips of their toes were touching. She was still holding Ana's hands.

"Ana. You are okay, aren't you? You seem…different. Look, if something is wrong, tell me. You know I won't judge, even if I don't understand. We both know that tonight was fucked up and so wrong. Do you have any idea…"

Wiping away her tears, Ana shook her head no.

"Did he have an explanation?"

"No. In fact, he pretended to be oblivious to it all, and when I looked him right in the eye and offered him the opportunity to explain that fucked up shit – he tried to make me seem stupid or paranoid,"

Kate knowingly raised her eyebrows.

"You have no clue as to who she is? Never heard him mention her?"

"No,"

"Ana, they appeared…"

"I know. Let's go talk in my bedroom,"

Kate's face was nothing but trepidation.

Kate locks the front door and they make their way to Ana's bedroom.

"Are you sure Elliot's down for the count?"

"Yup. The big lug is in la-la land,"

"Shut the door and lock it."

Kate stares out Ana, her green eyes knowing this is going to be bad.

The next day at work is hectic and Martha has given Ana five books that need a first chapter summary. It will make a long day for Ana but she knows that least it will keep her busy. Around ten o'clock that morning, Ana receives an email from the CEO billionaire himself. Just seeing his name pisses her off, but it is her natural curiosity to read it. Perhaps, Mr. I love creepy women in black will offer up the truth.

**From: **Christian Grey

**Subject: **Lunch

**Date: **March 10 2012 09:58

**To:** Anastasia Steele

Anastasia,

I would like to take you out for lunch. Sawyer will bring you at noon.

We can discuss your behavior last night.

Do you intend on spending another night with Katherine?

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

Ana is gaping at her computer screen. How fucking dare he?

**From: **Anastasia Steele

**Subject: **WTF?

**Date: **March 10 2012 10:17

**To: **Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

My responses to your email are the following:

No. I do not want to eat a meal with you. You might forget my presence.

I did nothing wrong last night, thus I have nothing to discuss.

Yes, I am staying at my apartment.

Anastasia Steele

Assistant to Martha Gant, Editor, Grey Publishing

**From: **Christian Grey

**Subject: **Unacceptable

**Date: **March 10 2012 10:20

**To: **Anastasia Steele

Anastasia,

Luke will be following his orders, which are to bring you to lunch.

End of discussion.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

**From: **Anastasia Steele

**Subject: **The hell he will

**Date: **March 10 2012 10:22

**To: **Christian Grey

If Luke Sawyer comes near me, someone will end up hurt.

Go have lunch with your blonde and uber creepy Cruella de Ville.

I noticed how much you enjoyed her company. And touch.

Anastasia Steele

Assistant to Martha Grant, Editor, Grey Publishing

**From: **Christian Grey

**Subject: **Cruella, eh?

**Date: **March 10 2012 10:25

**To: **Anastasia Steele

Elena Lincoln is a dear family friend and business partner.

Jealousy does not suit you.

Christian Grey,

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

**From: **Anastasia Steele

**Subject: **Discount Suits

**Date: **March 10 2012 10:35

**To: **Christian Grey

Jealousy?

No, it is called witnessing fucked up behavior.

Elena Lincoln was wearing you like a cheap suit.

You behaved inappropriately and intimately with her.

Kate also noticed and was shocked at your abhorrent disregard of my presence.

Business partners and old friends?

OLD being the perfect word to describe her.

Anastasia Steele

Assistant to Martha Gant, Editor, Grey Publishing

**From: **Christian Grey

**Subject: **RE:Discount Suits

**Date: **March 10 2012 10:38

**To: **Anastasia Steele

A cheap suit?

None of my suits are cheap.

I did not behave in such a matter.

We were merely catching up on our business ventures.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

Ana could not believe the shit Christian was saying to her. Is he lying to himself or to her? Oh, definitely lying to her. Whatever the truth really is, it always comes out in the wash. Or at least that is what Ray always told her. Noon rapidly approached, and Ana refused to have lunch with Mr. Christian Grey and it did not matter how many hulks he had ordered to hog tie her and drag her behind them. Knowing all their phones had a tracer installed in them; Ana grabbed her sack lunch, placed her cell phone in the center of her desk, and left Grey Publishing through the back door.

_**April 2012**_

Christian and Ana were lying on the large bed inside the cabin of his huge catamaran, The Grace. Naked and wrapped in only a sheet, the couple laid in their usual position, Christian behind her holding onto her tightly, his face buried in her hair.

Ana had given up trying to find out anything about Elena Lincoln. The mantra remained the same, family friend, business partner. She still could not get a satisfactory answer as to why a businessman such as Christian would be part owner of a chain of beauty salons. Too many questions-no answers.

Ana had spent two months in silence when it came to asking Christian about his previous life. When was he introduced to it, why he chose to live a life of secrecy, and one without actual love and affection, why had he only been interested in contracted relationships that consisted of simple fucking and inflicting "punishments" on women? Did he _enjoy_ hurting women?

So, with a month until they married, Ana knew it was time for answers and that time was now.

"Christian, how were you introduced to BDSM?"

Ana asked him in a very casual way, as if she had just asked him what his favorite color was. The second she asked, Christian's entire body tensed and he did not reply for several minutes.

"When I was at Harvard my roommate took me to a BDSM club,"

"And you liked it?"

"That's obvious, is it not?"

"Well, yes. Did you just jump into it immediately?

"I suppose you could say that. Why are you bringing this up, Ana?"

Christian sounded guarded and defensive and Ana could not believe he was incredulous of her questions. Had he expected her to never bring up that locked room?

Ana turned over so she could see his face, her head resting on his elbow. Christian was looking at her warily.

"Did you actually believe this topic would never come up? That I would want explanations about certain things? Are you telling me that you've never considered the fact I have been longing for you to share this with me?"

Christian rolled onto his back, causing Ana's head to fall off his elbow and back on her pillow, but her eyes never left his face. He sighed deeply and looked up at the ceiling.

"What do you want to know?"

"How many subs have you been with?"

Christian looked at her warily.

"I've had 15 contracted subs, but I have no idea how many there were when I was in training,"

Ana's stomach fell to the floor.

"What does one of your contracted subs get from you? Other than fucked senseless and beaten with canes."

Her jealousy comes out as angry bile, taking them both by surprise. Christian shakes his head no.

"Tell me,"

"Anastasia, this is just going to upset you and you should just drop it."

"Why is it such a big secret?"

Now Christian is angry, and is glaring at Ana ominously.

"They usually sign a three month contract that I extended with some. I bought them clothes and other gifts,"

Ana squints her eyes, studying his face that she knows so well.

"What else?"

Sighing in resignation, Christian finally answers her.

"Cars. All Audi A 3's. Safest cars in its class and they were always red,"

"I bet the Audi dealership loved to see you coming in the doors."

"I didn't order them for fucks sake, Taylor did. Do I look like a dumb fuck to you? FUCK! Why are you doing this now? Of all the god damn times!"

"Of course Taylor would do your bidding. What else?"

"I would help them out financially. I supported a few even after our contract had ended,"

Ana was flabbergasted and had to look anywhere but at him.

"Are you doing that now?" Ana gasps.

"No."

"What did they look like? Did you have a type?" Her words are nothing but a snarl.

Christian is silent for a very, very long time before he answers.

"Brunette and petite with very fair skin,"

This brutal truth is as if he has doused her with cold water and realization it brings hits her hard. Perhaps not knowing had been better.

"Like me? That's why you pursued me?"

"Yes." Christian has the grace to look contrite.

A long and insufferable silence ensues. But Ana wants to know more, everything under every rock. She loves him unconditionally, will soon be his way and knowing all this will not change her mind, but she has to know.

"Why did you do it? Why prefer a lifestyle such as that one that you kept a secret from everyone? Is that why you don't have any friends?"

Christian covered his eyes with his arm and when Ana tried to lower it so she could see his eyes, Christian will not let her.

"I enjoy the control it gives me and I'm not one to love or be loved."

Ana's heart rate increased at his words.

"You just said all of that in the present tense. Is that the way you still feel?

The panicked alarm in Ana's voice had Christian turn and softly stroke her face.

"Fuck no, Ana. You know I lo…"

Wait a minute; Ana is screaming in her head - he isn't one to love? Ana's mind swirled from what he said, what she had seemed to overlook, and she jumped up to her knees, covering herself with the sheet.

"You aren't one to love? What does that mean, Christian? You have told me that you love me but now you are saying that you do not love? WHAT THE FUCK, CHRISTIAN!"

Ana lifts her left hand and practically shoves it into his face.

"If that's the way you feel, then why the hell am I wearing this? Why are we getting married in a god damn month?"

Ana is screaming at him, tears pouring from her eyes and practically hyperventilating. Christian's face is etched with alarm and he grabs her in an attempt to pull her to him.

"I didn't mean for it to come out that way, Ana. I do love you! I cannot even think straight when I am with you and I am lost when we are not together. Can't you feel the depth of my feelings for you?"

Ana is vehemently shaking her head no and is attempting to get out of his grasp.

"At this moment, no, I do not! Have you been lying to me these past two months, Christian? Do you still want to do that shit? That shit you did because _you can't love?_

"Ana, fuck no! Are you blind? Are you deaf? Not feeling capable of being able to love or deserving to be loved stems from my child hood. Can't you see that? You know how that fucked me up. I didn't mean it to sound that I felt that way about us,"

Ana stared at him for a long time while her crying ceased. Yes, the first four years of his life were horrifying and she could understand the trauma they would leave behind, causing you to doubt being worthy of love, or causing you to fear being touched during intimacy. Christian no longer held Ana's arms together while they had sex, but she still could not touch him.

But why had Christian not confided these feelings to her?

"Why haven't you told me you carried those feelings with you? I don't understand, Christian."

"I was afraid of your reaction. The very one you are having now,"

"Everyone is worthy of love, Christian. I can understand you felt that way when you were a child, but your parents have loved you unconditionally for twenty-eight years. I love you, unconditionally."

Christian suddenly pulls Ana to him and wraps her tightly in his arms and kisses her deeply, softly.

"Oh, Ana, and I love you. So, so much," he murmurs onto her lips.

And then they are lost in one another and the cabin is slowly rocked by the waves as they touch the sides of The Grace.


	9. Chapter 9

All rights to the story and characters of FsoG belong to E. L. James.

_**There's A Truth That **__**Life's Revealing**_

_**May 2012**_

Perhaps a romantic honeymoon in the South Pacific is the exact time for a new bride to stick her foot in the dark waters of the unknown. That water is murky and laps at your feet in a quiet and cold lurking fashion, but it is a place that also holds a mystery that excites you. You are aware that the best sex of your life has not been gentle. It has been when he is rough with you and it only makes you wetter, and that one single _painful _bite nearly makes you convulse. So if your toe has already touched that dark, cold water and you _enjoyed _it, maybe you can step into a bit further.

Anastasia could say it was a simple question asked by Gail that had led her to that moment, when your fear is palpable and the smell from your lust fills the room. But to say that would be an excuse and is not owning your own behavior and actions. It is also blaming someone else for your choices, for being a cop out.

Ana and Gail were packing Anastasia's clothes for her and Christian's three-week honeymoon when Gail walked out of Ana's closet swinging a pair of pink and fuzzy handcuffs that Kate's mother had given Ana at her bachelorette party.

"Ana, shall I pack these for you?"

It was an innocent and playful question that sent them both into fits of laughter as Ana nodded yes and went into her closet to get the rest of the kinky and playful gifts she had been given. The pink blindfold that came along with the handcuffs, an insanely funny book full of different sex games, and edible body paint. At the last minute Ana threw in the tube of lubricant for some back door action. A honeymoon is for romance, but it would not hurt to add a little fun to the mix, would it?

Ana had never been shy or close-minded when it came to sex and when Christian asked if she would consider having anal sex, she had no qualms about it. Naturally, the fact that she quickly acquiesced led to Christian asking if she had ever done it and once she told him that she had, he threw a massive fit and sulked in his study until the next morning. His mood did not last long though since later that evening he was all but begging for it.

Having anal sex with Riley was completely opposite than with Christian, but Ana expected that. In all aspects of their sex life, Christian was not gentle, and he did not make an exception with this particular sex act either. With Riley it had been gentle, practically delicate and he was terrified he was hurting her, which was quite the opposite, it appeared as if Ana enjoyed it more than Riley did.

Christian may have been a bit forceful with Ana during sex, but he always made sure she was all right, asking if he was hurting her. Christian could not have ever been called gentle when it came to their sex life but Ana liked that, it was now the way she preferred to have sex and that admission to herself shocked the shit out of her. Ana had always had a one-dimensional view of herself, and it never included her sexual life with her husband. For Ana, she felt she had discovered that she was not who she assumed herself to be. The hardest part for Ana was realizing she was not who she thought she was. Who you believe you are is a truth that is cold and concrete, and to be honest, it is scary. Because if Ana was not who she thought she was, then who in the fuck was she?

This self-discovery was only reinforced when a ridiculously girly pink pair of handcuffs made out of the cheapest plastic and its matching blindfold made their way onto Anastasia Grey's naked body inside a gorgeous over the water bungalow on a private island that the ridiculously rich Christian Grey rented them for the first week of their honeymoon. Christian had been so scared that he would tighten the cuffs too much that it would hurt Ana, she laughed and told him that Mattel made toys from stronger plastic.

Playing that books different sex games each night as they hopped from island to yacht to island, Christian and Ana had probably had enough sex to last them a lifetime, and Ana's jaw was perpetually sore from all the head she had given her new husband. It was right in the middle of Ana sucking away and moaning on Christian's cock when he suddenly stopped her. Looking at her husband in confusion, Ana saw his beautiful head cocked a bit to the side and he was wearing a sly grin, his chest still heaving.

"Did I accidentally bite you?"

"No baby, I just thought about something that would be sexy as hell,"

"What?"

"Go get those silly handcuffs and that blindfold. I want to try something,"

"Try what?"

"Something hot. Now go find them before my balls explode,"

Minutes later, Ana was not just giving Christian head, he was standing in front of Ana, whose arms were secured behind her back with fuzzy pink handcuffs and wearing a girly pink mask, and he was fucking her mouth. The fact that Ana had no gag reflex at all made this all the more better for Christian, as he held onto the sides of her head and pulled on her hair that he'd quickly braided, filling her mouth with his cock until it hit the back of her throat. Ana had never been so turned on in her life, but also wondered if she was stepping into that dark and muddy water a little more than she intended to.

_**July 2012-January 2013**_

Christian and Ana moved into their home on the Sound in early July. The house itself only needed minor repair work, which Elliot and his company completed in three months. The first month after they'd moved in, Ana spent most of her time getting lost, while Christian spent most of his time searching for his missing wife, calling out her name but the house was so huge she never heard him. Ana could not conceive of how much money Christian was spending on this house that included his ridiculous inside basketball court and inside Olympic sized pool. It seemed to ostentatious and wasteful in Ana's opinion.

The only things Ana cared about was having her own library and turning adjoining bedrooms into suites so that Ray or other family members could stay in as they visited. Ana also told Elliot to paint a few rooms a neutral color so they could be a nursery whenever she and Christian decided on having a family. Ana was too busy talking to Elliot to notice that Christian made no comment about starting a family, or the odd expression on her brother in laws face who was facing Christian while Ana was speaking.

From the very start, Christian and Ana's relationship had been a whirlwind, one that was fast and intense. They married quicker than either imagined, perhaps fueled by the fact Christian had never been in love before and his passion swept Ana away. They were both blinded, fused-gray to blue, and Ana grasped onto Christian while he held onto her even tighter as they attempted to navigate their way through an all-consuming love for each other. There were many days that Ana felt as if she was stuck on top of a Ferris wheel looking down onto Christian and the walls he had built around himself. It took awhile for Ana to gain his trust, but when he eventually realized he could emotionally trust her, he explained his fear of being touched and shared those first dark four years of his life. Somewhere along the way Christian developed into a mature man, and was no longer stuck in that four-year-old boys fucked up mindset. He seemed to have finally meshed into the man he should have been all along.

Whether it was Christian's emotional growth or witnessing Ana's loving and close relationship with his family, he was finally able to open up and accept the unconditional love his family had always wanted to shower him with. Christian was constantly thanking her for _healing _him, to which Ana told him, was complete bullshit. She was not an angel or a miracle worker, but his wife and perhaps she had simply led him by example. Whatever brought Grace's youngest son back into the family fold, it only made her love Ana all the more.

The couple never missed a family dinner, although Ana sometimes wished they had since the creepy Cruella friend of Grace's was often there as well. Even months after initially meeting this woman, she still could not pinpoint what it was about that woman that made her feel so strangely towards her, and she would never understand why in the world she would be Grace's best friend. How one of the world's kindest human beings could be a friend to one of the world's most cold and creepiest human beings was a conundrum to Ana. And no matter how many receipts for lunch and an expensive bottle of wine from some exclusive restaurant that Ana would find, Christian would always say they were from mere business meetings with Elena.

It was always pure business with a long time family friend, that eventually became glaringly apparent that this long time family friend was also a close friend of Christian's; despite the fact she was nearly twenty years older than him. He had no other friends, no other men to talk to other than his security team and Elliot. Christian actually slipped up one night after drinking too much and told Ana that Elena was the only person that knew the _real_ Christian. The _REAL _Christian? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? The first thing that flew into Ana's mind was that this Cruella creature must have known about Christian's past in BDSM, and if so, why in the hell would she?

During this rare drunken state that was brought about by losing a big acquisition at work, he also slurred to his wife how sexy and gorgeous he thought Elena was. Besides chipping off a piece of Ana's heart, Christian's drunken confession only added gasoline to the fire of Ana's insecurities when it came to him. Sure, she was an eager and willing participant to _play _with Christian, but she never lost that feeling of not being what he needed, always torturing herself that he simply could not have lost his desire to be a dominant so quickly, which meant she could not give him his kicks.

Naturally, once Ana confronted Christian about what he had said about Elena Lincoln, he denied meaning a word of it and told Ana he had no idea why he would even mention her name. And as time crept on, with more receipts found and telephone calls between her husband and another woman, Christian never failed to defend his actions and Elena, which led to countless bitter and angry arguments that always ended when Christian just told Ana she was being irrationally jealous. Elena Lincoln and her black Morticia Adams clothes quickly became a looming shadow over their marriage, one that Christian seemingly chose over Ana at each turn, even as he witnessed Elena's patronizing behavior towards Ana whenever they had the misfortune of being around each other. Ana quickly realized she was allowing the both of them to walk all over her and she just did not understand why.

Ana could only be afraid that if Christian kept this up they would not stand a chance. Along with this Elena bullshit, he carried so much garbage with him, that Ana tried very hard to hide her frustrations. Ana knew Christian was not doing anything to stop the shit that was bothering her when it came to Elena, and tried to step away from her fears and insecurities that had started playing with Ana's head. She would wonder if there was a reason Christian behaved like this, doing absolutely nothing. Ana knew that he told her he loved her more than anything, but how could she be so sure in the face of this absurd disrespect he had for his own wife?

Two weeks after Ana and Christian moved into their new home, Elliot and Kate surprised the all of the Grey's during a family dinner when Elliot suddenly stood up, looking a bit nervous but very excited, and cleared his throat. All the nonstop chatter from around the table stopped as all eyes were on Elliot, but Ana was staring at Kate who was blushing for the first time in her life and shyly looking at her best friend.

"May I have everyone's attention, please?"

Ana nearly giggled at him, because even when Elliot was being serious he still carried an aura of humor and a wonderful positive personality with him that it was hard to take him seriously. She knew what he was going to say and could not wait to see how he managed to get the words out along with the family's reaction.

"Katherine and I have very recently learned that we are to be parents and we wanted to share our happy news with you tonight since the whole family is present,"

Carrick and Grace looked utterly surprised and could not find the words to speak, but Mia was already screeching and practically pouncing on top of Kate, while Ana started crying happy tears for them. Christian stared at his older brother with what appeared to be disappointment in his eyes and as if he wanted to reprimand Elliot. Grace and Carrick finally came back down to earth and both were crying and congratulating Elliot and Kate. Everyone was ecstatic from the news, but Ana knew Christian well enough to see that he did not approve. Why he did not was not clear to her, but she assumed it was his hostile dislike for Kate, and that he was not overly enthusiastic about her becoming a Grey. While Christian was shaking Elliot's hand their father loudly announced that hopefully the family would not have too long for Ana to be carrying the next baby Grey.

"Oh, dad, don't start talking about that now. Ana is still young and building a career. Give us some time would you?"

Christian is replying while trying to get out of a headlock Elliot has him in and Mia is already bouncing baby names off Kate and Ana. But being her usual antagonistic self whenever it came to Christian, and full of burning dislike over knowing the actual Christian, Kate just had to remind him of the obvious, which everyone else did not seem to notice.

"Christian, Ana is the same age as I am and I'm also working to build upon my career. Are you implying I shouldn't be having this child?"

And just as it was on the very few occasions that Kate even acknowledged Christian, the room became somewhat quieter as all eyes moved to Christian.

"No, I'm not, Katherine. I was referring to my wife,"

"Is that your decree or your mere opinion of when and where my best friend is allowed to procreate?"

Christian's face was void of expression, refusing to be lured into whatever corner Kate's glaring eyes were trying to lead him to. Ana, always stuck between her husband and best friend, said nothing, but it was Elliot that made the wrong decision by defending his younger brother.

"Kate, don't start. Christian did not imply anything like that..."

"Of course! Defend him as usual, has anyone asked my best friend..."

"Elliot, Christian, Katherine that is enough! This is neither the time nor place for this. We have had wonderful news and this is time to celebrate that. Carrick, please bring us a bottle of our finest champagne while I get juice for our dear Kate,"

Grace had a _shut the hell up_ expression directed right at her two sons and Kate, even with a joyful tone in her voice. Essentially, she shut their shit down with a smile on her lips. Grace loved them all, but having Kate and Christian in the same room was like playing with dynamite.

Three weeks later, the Grey and Kavanagh families all gathered in Carrick and Grace's backyard as Kate became Mrs. Elliot Grey. Christian served as his older brother's best man and Ana and Mia served Kate as maid and matron of honor. Six months later Kate gave birth to a daughter, Ava Rose, who was an exact replica of her father.

As Christian and Ana left the hospital after visiting baby Ava, flanked by Taylor and Sawyer, Christian looks down at his wife and asks her a question that she would come to ponder frequently.

"Have you had your period yet?"

Ana quickly looked to Taylor and Sawyer in complete embarrassment, her face bright red.

"Christian, lower your voice,"

Rolling his eyes at her in a gesture that said, "As if they haven't heard worse." he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, have you?"

"Why? I seriously can't believe you're asking me this right now,"

"I'm asking you because I don't want to get you pregnant and I know how irresponsible you can be about taking your pill. In fact, I think I'm going to make you an appointment with your gynecologist so you can start getting the Depo shot."

"What? You think you are going to make a decision about my body and call my doctor? And I am not fucking irresponsible, do you think I'm your fucking child or better yet some sub you push around and tell what to do!"

Ana does not think she has ever been this enraged at another human being and begins to walk so fast she is practically running, but before she gets to far Christian is back by her side.

"Do not say that shit when we're out in public!"

Hissing his words at Ana, Christian is rubbing both of his hands through his hair and glaring down at her.

"If you are so ashamed for that word to be spoken around you, then you shouldn't have fucking had those rent a weekend submissives,"

"Lower your voice, Anastasia and be more circumspect with what you say in public. And I brought up that you need to change your birth control to prevent an unwanted pregnancy. There was no excuse for Elliot knocking up Kate and I don't want that to happen to us."

This time Ana does not run but rather stops dead in her tracks. Every bit of blood has drained from her face due to the words that just easily flowed from the mouth of her husband. Ana can only stare at him as if she is meeting him for the first time, gaping at him in complete and utter shock. It takes her several minutes and shaking his words from her mind before she finds words to say to him. Christian is facing her, looking bemused but also a bit smug. He actually looks smug. When Ana starts to reply to this man she married, her words come out in a loud and indignant voice that causes everyone around them to stare.

"So, you're telling me that if birth control failed and I ended up pregnant with your fucking baby it would be UNWANTED? Not UNPLANNED, but UNWANTED? Is that what you really feel? Not that we are married and sometimes unexpected pregnancies do happen, but ours would not be wanted? Well, what in the fuck would you expect me to do with it? Put it in a basket and float it down a river like Moses? Or more along the lines of getting rid of it? Is THAT what you're informing me of while you make decisions about my body and healthcare?"

Christian harshly grabs Ana's elbow and pulls her quickly to the elevators. As they stand waiting for the doors to open, Christian's face is as impassive as Taylor's and Sawyer's. Ana feels like she is surrounded by robots as she pulls her arm from Christian's grasp. Once they enter the elevator, he loses his shit, looking down at Ana with eyes so narrowed they are in a slit like a snakes, and he points a finger at her.

"Don't ever disrespect me like that again, Anastasia. That was uncalled for and worse yet, in a public…"

"Ohhhh...so what I asked you is not as important to you as us being in public. God, forbid the press gets wind of proof that Christian Grey really is a heartless bastard,"

The force and depth of Christian's anger is swirling around Ana and their two CPO's. But Ana cannot give a fuck. The fact that he thinks it's fine to decide which method of birth control she uses, and then tell her a baby unexpectedly conceived by a married couple who are in love with one another is a god damn unwanted mistake? Well, fuck him.

"And don't you ever judge your brother and my best friend for that beautiful baby I just held in my arms. You have got a whole lot of fucking nerve to even consider that your opinion should matter when it comes to their life or their decisions. At least Elliot didn't tell Kate their baby was unwanted, and that's proof that of the two of you he's the decent husband."

Ana has wrapped her arms around herself protectively wondering how this man could actually have those feelings toward any baby that might be conceived in love, whether a surprise or not. Christian's entire body is ramrod straight and tense and he is standing to his full height.

"Oh, and another thing, Christian. I do not want to have a baby right now. And to be very honest, having a baby by a man who just said those horrible things to his wife, I doubt I'll ever want to have your child,"

Ana words sound harsh and her voice is hoarse from attempting to keep her tears at bay. Yes, it is true she does not want a baby now, but never wanting a child with Christian is a blatant lie, but one she will not confess to right now since she feels like he just kicked her straight in the heart. But then Ana watches as Christian reacts to what she has said to him. Fully expecting his ire, or maybe even appearing that Ana's words had wounded him, she watches as Christian's entire body visibly relaxes and he blows out a deep breath he has obviously been holding. And like before, when she felt him kick her in the heart, his actions bring down the same blow, but Ana has had a sudden revelation, one about the fact that Christian has never uttered a word about becoming a father, and that this all means he never wants to have children.

Ana has to bite her tongue to keep from crying.

Not just from how he's made her feel, but from how she has allowed him to make her feel.


	10. Chapter 10

All rights to the story of FsoG and characters belong to E.L. James

_**Was She Asking For It?**_

_**May 2012-February 2014**_

In the beginning, Christian and Ana's marriage was heavenly. Ana quickly learned how to handle Christian and his mercurial ways while he tried his very best to reign in his controlling tendencies when it came to her safety. Trying being the operative word since it was literally an obsession of his. At one point he wanted to add a female CPO along with Sawyer, but Ana put her foot down when it came to having a woman standing in front of a bathroom stall while she took a piss. Beside, Ana reminded him, there was no way anyone was going to get around Sawyer and get to Ana. In mere months, Sawyer and Ana developed a trusting and friendly relationship and despite her usual stubborn refusal of being told what to do, Ana was not this way with Sawyer, probably because he did not attempt to intimidate her into doing something. She would never stop telling Sawyer to just call her Ana, and he never listened to her. It often appeared that Sawyer felt as if Ana was his boss and not Christian, which was something that Christian Grey did not like.

The fact they had married so quickly, Christian and Ana found that they were so alike in many facets of their personalities, sharing the same love for certain books and movies, along with many differences as well, especially on political views and their individual theories on things such as gun control. It was all of these things that fused the two of them together in what appeared as a perfect fit and caused them to grow into one another. The once aloof and closed off Christian Grey became outwardly loving and affectionate and Ana, well, Ana simply glowed from happiness. From the inside out their marriage felt perfect and appeared without a flaw. The Grey family was ecstatic but Kate knew better.

From day one, Christian and Ana found out that they were exceptionally compatible sexually and with Ana's natural curiosity she was not closed-minded to try new _things_. After their honeymoon and those fuzzy pink handcuffs, those new _things _began to evolve into sexual activity that Christian started pulling out of the deepest crevices of Ana's mind. The first time Christian ripped off a pair of her panties and used them to tie her wrists together behind her back, Ana had never experienced such an intense orgasm. Christian recognized that Ana had a small dark space in her head that her body enjoyed and often craved. It almost seemed inevitable that after their honeymoon, Ana asked Christian to unlock the room upstairs, and from then on, the couple spent sporadic hours inside of the playroom, but Ana and her long brown tresses in an almost perfect French braid, only allowed those hours to be for pleasure.

Then on Ana's birthday, after returning from a large party the Grey's threw for her that included Ray, the couple were both in the mood to _play. _After countless orgasms courtesy of her insatiable husband, Ana began to eye one of the many riding crops handing from hooks along the wall and from out of nowhere she wondered how that would feel across her skin. Christian raised his exhausted head and followed where Ana's eyes had drifted. Whether she was lost in a sated post orgasmic state or from her natural sense of curiosity, Ana did not understand why she imagined the feelings this riding crop would bring her.

"What are you looking at?"

Christian's words snapped Ana from her reverie but she was too embarrassed to tell him. He began nipping along her neck and collarbone, his tongue along it, causing Ana to wiggle and whimper underneath him.

"Hmm...What were you looking at, Anastasia? Tell me,"

"Ah...that riding crop looking thingy."

Christian laughed loudly. "Thingy?"

Ana swatted his arm and blushed a bright red.

"Does my baby want me to get it down and run it along her body? Hmm?"

His voice was hypnotic and husky, as he tried to control his panting, which only increased Ana's state of heightened arousal, but she was too bashful to answer him.

"It won't hurt you, Ana. I would not hurt you. If you are afraid of that and any pain it may cause you, it's all in your head anyway,"

Christian continued kissing and licking his way down her body. Ana finally found her voice, albeit small and murmured in a whisper.

"Ok."

Christian looked in her eyes shrewdly, searching whether or not she was sure.

"Are you serious? I don't want to do anything you're ambivalent about,"

"I'm serious, Christian. I want to see what it feels like you can go get it. I'll try it, but never anything that will leave me black and blue."

Climbing off Ana, a naked Christian walked to where the riding crops were hanging, hesitating before touching one. He turned back to Ana, who was now sitting up on the bed watching him.

"Are you positive about this? I haven't laid a finger on one of these in a long while now, and I don't want to do anything that's going to freak you out or upset you,"

"Yes, I'm positive Christian. I want to see what it feels like, but please don't hurt me."

"Never, baby,"

He sounded excited, with a rasping and raw voice. Without even having to look at them, Christian removed a riding crop and walked back to the bed, looking down at Ana with gray eyes that were suddenly on fire with some unknown emotion. Ana's stomach was fluttering nervously as she eyed the object Christian was holding in his hand and looked up at his face.

"What do I do now?"

"Stand up, baby,"

With legs as weak as Bambi and her heart crawling up her throat, Ana got off the bed and stood awkwardly before her husband.

Christian slowly walked behind his wife without saying a word, but she noticed that his breath had altered somewhat and since Ana was holding hers, Christian's breath was the only noise filing the room.

"Hold out your right hand, baby."

Ana raised her right arm, knowing that she was visibly shaking. She kept her eyes fixed on the red wall in front of her and waited for Christian to tell her what to do next.

"I'm just going to swat your hand and I want you to tell me if it hurts you. Okay,"

If Ana had not been so hyper aware of her surroundings, she might have missed the subtle change of tone in Christian's words or felt how his posture straightened as he was pressing into her back. But Ana did not miss it and could not understand what this might imply.

"Okay." It was just a whisper.

The contact the riding crop made on the palm of her hand was quick and soft, but Ana jumped from surprise and let out a small gasp when she felt it on her skin. Ana could feel Christian's rock hard erection digging into her.

"Did that hurt? If anything starts to hurt you, just say stop,"

"It didn't hurt."

Ana's heart was slamming into her chest wall from anticipation. This time the crop did not come down on her palm. Christian began to slowly run the crop along her outstretched arm and down her back, causing her to shiver. He ran the crop over every inch of her body and once he was standing in front of her, he used a leg to separate her thighs. Then he gently snapped the crop directly on her clit, causing Ana to groan loudly and her legs began to shake. Christian leaned down and bit Ana's earlobe.

"Did you like the way that felt, Ana?"

Ana could only whisper a breathless yes.

"Put your arms around your back, baby. I am going to use your panties to tie your wrists, ok?

Ana nodded, listening as Christian moved about the room. Her arousal was driving her mad and the throbbing between her legs was screaming for relief. Lost in her thoughts, she did not realize her wrists were already tied behind her back until she felt Christian's warm breath on the back of her neck.

"Ana, are you alright? Do you still want to do this? Tell me,"

"Yes, I'm fine. I still want to try."

"Remember the minute you want to stop, tell me and I will immediately. All right, Ana? Say alright."

"I will say it. I will say stop. What are you going to do?"

Ana could feel Christian's smile on her neck right before he bit down on it making her moan.

"I'm just going to make you feel good, baby,"

Ana closed her eyes tightly and held her breath, from both her fear and longing when she felt the crop land on the top of her right thigh causing her to jump again. Slowly and methodically, Christian made his way around her body, flicking the riding crop against every inch of her skin. Ana could feel her body releasing its ambivalence and fear as it reached out to grab this strange but oddly erotic experience. When Christian reached to her right breast, he bent down and latched onto her nipple, sucking it hard as he held Ana upright since her legs had gone out from under her.

"If you want this standing up, I'm going to have to move you since you don't seem able to stand on your own. The only way you can remain standing is if I cuff your hands above you."

Christian was speaking against her nipple, still sucking and biting it gently. Ana was drenched and beginning to writhe as his mouth pushed and pushed her closer to the edge.

"It will be so much better standing up, baby. God, I want to fuck you so bad, right now, standing up."

By now, Ana had left her body, becoming nothing but a sensation. A sensation of hot and cold lust that was a dam burning to burst. She could only nod her assent to Christian, who moved her to the St. Andrews cross and adeptly cuffed Ana's wrists, only the tips of her toes on the hardwood floor.

"Christian...please,"

"I know, baby. I will. Just feel it."

Kissing her deeply and harshly, Christian took her bottom lip and bit it hard, causing Ana's whimpering to turn into a wild moan, while her head fell back. Christian took the same nipple in his mouth and then thrust two of fingers inside her pussy, causing them both to groan. Standing up and pulling his fingers out, Christian moved away from her enough so that he could resume working her over with the riding crop. He aimed it at the very nipple he had driven her crazy with, the flick of the crop made Ana nearly came, crying out his name. He gently continued hitting that same nipple over and over until he saw that Ana was about to fall over the ledge and then he just stopped. Ana cried out in protest, her wild blue eyes landing on his gray ones that were nearly unrecognizable. Christian smiled at her in an almost devilish grin and then began to hit the other side of her body with the crop, only this time Ana felt the crops force was a bit harder, drawing out a scream of pleasure that reverberated throughout the room.

Once Christian recognized that he had taken his wife to a place that erased her fear, he dropped the riding crop and without warning, wrapped her dangling legs around his waist and started pounding into her, as he had never done before. With just three strokes of his cock, Ana came hard around him, yelling out his name in a hoarse and exhausted voice. Ana was nothing but a hanging and debilitated puppet that Christian mercilessly rammed into over and over.

Over time, Christian and Ana would occasionally go back into the _playroom _but it was on Ana's terms – no pain. Christian never seemed to have a problem with this and it appeared to soothe an ache that Ana felt surrounded him. There were a few times where Ana was uncomfortable, perhaps even afraid of something that would be painful, but every time she asked herself if she would do it again, the answer was always yes, but only if he does not hurt me. Ana had never confided the reason she would never be able to tolerate pain, wondering what he would think, or if it would change anything.

One evening after Ana had been promoted to editor at Grey Publishing, she dragged her exhausted ass in the front door, with an equally weary looking Sawyer on her heels. It had been a long day that kept Ana working later than usual. Christian was sitting at the breakfast bar chatting with Gail who was scurrying around their kitchen preparing dinner. Ana tossed her purse and briefcase on a table in the entryway. The first thing she noticed was that Christian was slowly nursing his glass of wine and would not look at her. She rolled her eyes at herself thinking he could not possibly be pissed off that she had stayed at work a bit later, especially after she called and told him. Obviously, she was wrong, but still went up to him and kissed his cheek.

"How was your day, Anastasia?" His voice was acerbic as finally looked at her.

All she was thinking as she looked at her husband is he fucking kidding me?

"It was abysmal, like I told you earlier. What time did you get home?"

"Awhile ago. Mrs. Taylor put off starting dinner until you came home,"

Christian's eyes narrowed at Ana, as if he was daring her to reply. Not falling into whatever pit of an argument he is attempting to start, Ana makes her way up the stairs.

"I'm going to change clothes real quick. I'll be right down."

Ana tries her best to hide the annoyance she is feeling, but stalks to the staircase, only to feel Christian behind her. Oh, so he wants to apologize now? Heading into her closet to change into something more comfortable, Ana hears Christian lock the door behind him, then his arms encircling her waist as he starts kissing her neck.

"I'm sorry if I appeared grumpy. We lost a big deal today and I have been pissed off ever since. I didn't mean to take it out on you,"

"Apology accepted. I understand completely because I had the day from hell. I think I want to go back to be being an editor's assistant. It was practically a stress free job, and since I got promoted, even poor Sawyer has to suffer along with me."

Ana has taken off her blouse and skirt and is searching for her yoga pants, standing in just her bra and panties. She laughs when she catches Christian gawking at her and walks up to him and kissed him deeply.

"What are you looking at, Mr. Grey? Anything that makes you want to knock one off quickly?"

Ana sees the bulge in his pants and bites her bottom lip anticipating what is about to happen. Looking up at Christian through her eyelashes, she recognizes the lust in his eyes, but along with lust, there is something else that she cannot quite pinpoint. He shakes his head very slowly and pulls her to him while Ana takes a deep breath; she is excited and wet already.

"No, Mrs. Grey. I do not want to knock one off quickly. I want something else; I want to slowly savor you,"

Ana feels the longing on her face as she slowly steps out of her panties and he unclasps her bra. She can tell what Christian needs and she is ready to give it to him.

"Go lay on the bed, Anastasia."

Lying on her back while raised up on her elbows so she can watch Christian, she sees him disappear into his closet where he seems to be taking his own sweet time, as though he is purposely making Ana wait. The wait seems much longer than it actually is, but her desire for her husband is nearly crippling. A naked Christian emerges from his closet with two of his ties in one hand and a medium sized black satin bag in his other hand that Ana has never seen before. He is smiling at her, but in a way she's never seen and she swallows hard, trying to push back a sense of uneasiness, an uneasiness brought about by Ana, who is wondering if Christian is attempting to intimidate her, since it seems like that is all he ever wants to do.

"Where did that bag come from, Christian? What's in it?"

Ana's words are rushed and she is frowning at him as she waits for his answer.

"Just some new toys I bought us. Trust me, you will enjoy this even more than our other playtimes. Turn over onto your stomach, Anastasia,"

The tone of his voice is normal as he gazes down upon her playfully. Ana's anxiety begins to abate and she feels silly at her previous ambivalence and turns onto her stomach, she has no reason to fear her own husband, he would never hurt her. The bed dips down as Ana feels him over her and he begins to deftly braid her hair.

"Raise your head up. I have to improvise for a blindfold since our new playroom is not complete. This is just one of my ties."

Ana quickly complies, her body once again hungers for him, and her impatience begins to grow. Christian takes both of her arms and ties them together with his tie, making her only wetter. Christian leans down and runs his tongue up her back.

"Do your arms feel alright? I didn't tie them too tightly did I?"

Ana tells him that it feels fine and can hear what sounds like him removing something from what imagines is that black satin bag.

"Remember to tell me to stop if you don't like something, Ana. The fear of me causing you pain is all in your head, you know I would never intentionally hurt you,"

"I know. I will tell you if it's too much."

Her response is low and husky, mixed with excitement, and a bit of trepidation about what is in that bag. That trepidation is quickly forgotten once she is lost by Christian's mouth and tongue that he is moving all over her body. When he pushes his tongue inside her pussy from behind, Ana cries out, Unable to keep herself from writhing around their king sized bed, Ana feels Christian grip her hips in a way that implies for her to stop. He moves himself from her body and she can feel him shifting to the right.

"Ana, I'm just going to rub our usual lube on you, I'm not going to take your ass, but I'm going to insert something in it that will feel like a bullet. It's like my finger so I know you'll like it,"

"What is it, Chrisitan?"

"Hush now, baby, don't over think this, I've got you,"

The way he whispers those words leave her hypnotized as she feels the familiar sensation of the lubricant he is applying on her. Then he slowly inserts something into her ass that feels foreign, but her traitorous body causes her to groan low in her throat. Ana can hear Christian softly laughing to himself as he plunges two fingers into her pussy causing her to yell out loudly, as his fingers have caused the object in her ass to move deeper inside her.

"Shhh, baby. Everyone in the house is going to hear you."

He sounds amused, but his breathing has become labored and Ana feels his engorged erection on her backside. She wants to tell him to hurry up and take her, when in one swift move; his fingers become his cock that he slams into her with no preamble, causing the object in her ass to move even further up her ass. Ana nearly has an orgasm.

"Oh, fuck..."

Ana cries out and starts pushing her ass backwards to meet his thrusts when Christian suddenly stops and pulls out of her.

"Christian, please!"

"No, I haven't used all of my toys,"

"Please! Don't stop, I don't care about your toys!"

Christian gives Ana's ass a hard slap and she involuntarily moans.

"That's my sweet girl. Ana, I have got a toy here that feels like a small racquetball paddle. I'm going to bring it down by your fingers so you can touch it, ok?"

"A paddle? That will hurt me, Christian!"

Ana feels her blood rush to her head making her feel dizzy. The apprehension is back and she is beginning to panic. Christian was more than aware how she felt about pain – there was not to be any.

Christian abruptly takes Ana's fingers and runs them across a smooth surface that she knows is wood. Ana quickly clenches her hands into a fist, pushing them away from whatever it is that Christian is holding. Why he wants to use this on her is a violation of her trust. He has known since day one how she feels about him hurting her. She starts shaking her head violently and tries to roll onto her back.

"Ana! It is okay, it is me. Calm down, baby,"

Christian is gently stroking his wife's hair as he whispers in her ear in an attempt to reassure her.

"Shhh. Its okay, Anastasia."

Her breathing returns to normal and she stills. Ana knows from Christian's voice that he means what he is saying and she releases the tension she has been holding within her body. The couple remains quiet for a moment before Christian speaks.

"Do you want to stop now? It is ok if you do, baby. I understand and won't be mad,"

Ana will not lie to herself if she says she is still not aroused. Whatever Christian put inside of her is still making her feel full and every time she moves it increases her arousal. Christian is still hovering over her and she can feel his erection touching her. She knows what she wants and needs.

"No, Christian, I don't want to stop. Please. We don't have to."

"Positive?"

Ana nods and Christian picks up right where he left off, only this time burying his face into her pussy and bringing her to a loud orgasm that has her barely mumbling his name. He finally plunges into her, causing the butt plug he bought for her to move over and over with each of his thrusts, causing Ana to cry out at the top of her lungs, her wetness increases from Christian's growling groans that are filling their bedroom. He raises his hand and slaps her ass repeatedly, driving her toward a spiraling downfall, when out of nowhere, her body grips around his cock as her body locks down on an earth shattering orgasm, leaving her strung out and face down on their bed not moving. Ana can feel Christian's hard breathing on her neck as he leans down on her back, still fucking her hard. He is panting and pulling her ass back up to him.

"God, Ana...Ana"

Ana finally comes back to life and realizes she has got to raise her ass since her arms are behind her and she cannot prop up on them. Christian continues to bring his hand down on her ass and upper thighs, in a forceful way, but not painful and it's causing her moans to increase and her breath becomes erratic.

"Ch...Christian...I can't take much more..."

"Fuck...just...I..."

Ana then feels that unbelievable ecstasy building once more and this time she is afraid of what is going to happen. She is already too sensitive and is beginning to get sore; another orgasm will rip her apart.

"Baby...Ana...please let me use the paddle. Please, baby,"

In that one moment, with Ana on the precipice of insanity from her tightly tensed body about to unwind and shatter apart, she concedes with Christian's plea as she screams in the middle of yet another orgasm. Still coming around him hard and wet, Ana suddenly feels a hard blow land across her backside, but dazed and incoherent; her brain is still fuzzy and disconnected as this orgasm drags itself out of her body. Christian hits her again and expeditiously Ana becomes cognizant, raising her head from the pillow. Before she's able to utter a word or take in a breathe of air, she hears Christian's ragged breath as he strikes her again, it feels as if he's putting every ounce of his body's force behind the blow. Then, another blow lands on her, this one on the top of her thighs, the pain feels like a cutting knife, or a fire that he's lit on her ass and Ana realizes that Christian is coming violently inside of her.

Ana begins thrashing around the bed and screaming "STOP!"

_NO! This cannot happen again. This is what he did to me. I cannot let him hurt me again. NO!_

"Fucking STOP! STOP!"

_Get off me, get off me, get off me! DO NOT TOUCH ME! He is hurting me!_

"Get off me! Stop it! You are hurting me, Christian! NO!"

When Ana first screamed stop, Christian dropped the paddle, tearing his ties from her wrists and eyes as Ana scrambled off her stomach. When her backside rubbed against the sheets she winced from the stinging pain, scalding tears pouring from her blue eyes. Unable to speak through her strangled sobs and blinded from crying, she falls off the bed as she is attempting to get away from her husband.

"Anastasia!"

Christian jumps off the bed and scoops her into his arms bridal style and holds her close to his chest, but she is still thrashing in a desperate attempt to escape. Christian's strength overpowers her as he is quietly murmuring in her hair that it is okay, he is sorry he hurt her, please forgive me. Sitting on the edge of their bed Christian holds her in his arms for a long time as Ana continues to hysterically sob as he gently rocks her. Ana finally stops crying while Christian keeps wiping the tears from her face, and kissing her forehead. Moving her head away from his chest, Ana looks at him dumbfound, his gray eyes locked onto hers. What does she see in them? Concern? Regret? Confusion? Yes, she sees all three.

"I told you it was okay to do that?"

Christian looks nonplussed by her question as he nods at her.

"I realize I must have, but couldn't you see I only consented because I was in the middle of coming? I suppose I'm making an excuse for saying yes, but I've told you countless times you can't hurt me, so why did you, Christian?"

Christian's bewildered expression seems to harden as he closes his eyes, in the same manner that he does when he is trying to reign in his temper. Ana continues to observe her husband, but he does not speak for a long while.

"Ana, I thought you wanted me to. I thought you were at the point where it was alright...that you wanted it."

Tears start to swim in her eyes once again and she looks away, shaking her head in disbelief at where her lust had led her.

"I...I don't know what happened. I only know I was not thinking straight, I was not fucking capable of thinking. I just thought you were clear on how far I would go. Maybe I never explained my feelings the right way or misled you by all of the other things we have been doing. But I did trust you to never do that."

Christian stares at his wife with wide eyes and an expression that is mournful and sighs deeply. He drops his head in shame and holds onto her even harder, causing Ana to jump from the scorching pain of her backside.

"Come, I'll run you a bath to sit in. I know it hurts, plus I've got to remove that damn butt plug,"

Christian carries his wife into their large bathroom and runs her a lukewarm bath and he adds a bit of baby oil in it. He gently lowers Ana into the water and rubs her back with a sea sponge while she is still hiccupping from her earlier sobbing.

"Baby, raise your ass up so I can get this plug out. Ana, you can trust me. I should have snapped out of thinking only of myself and realized you only consented to it was because you were in mid orgasm. I am so sorry. I'll never forgive myself."

"Christian, did you want to hit me with that because you are missing your old life? Is that why you were only thinking of yourself? Has all this kinky shit made you want to hurt me? You can be honest and tell me. I need to know,"

Ana is speaking so low that Christian is barely able to make out what she is saying. He looks at her dejectedly as he replies.

"No. I do not miss that lifestyle. I love our life. I love my life with you, Anastasia. Goddamn. I am so fucking sorry that I have put that thought in your head. Please, please believe me, baby."

"I don't want you to hurt me from a place of deep rooted fear, Christian. Just because I have not let my fear show, it does not mean I am not feeling it. Actually what it means is that you haven't recognized it,"

Ana's portentous words cause Christian to raise his head suddenly and stare at her profile.

"Fear? A deep-rooted fear, Ana? Where does this fear come from? Tell me."

Christian raises her face by her chin and makes her look him in the eyes. Ana's face is not capable of hiding the heartbreak she feels and her body is shaking from both the water turning cold as well as knowing what her words have brought about and what she is going to have to confide to Christian. A secret she has only trusted with Ray and Kate, the one she never wanted Christian to know about, and the secret she is not going to fully tell him.

"Can we talk about this later, Chrisitan? This water is freezing and I've got to get out,"

"Let me get you a towel and I'll rub some lotion on your backside."

Swiftly toweling Ana off, he gently rubs lotion on her reddened skin and dresses her in a bathrobe. Christian then carries Ana back to their bed where he pulls her into an embrace, kissing her hair and asks her once more to explain what her fear stems from.

"Christian...I don't want to talk about this. Please, don't make me,"

"Did someone hurt you, Anastasia? Is that what you are afraid of? Ana, I need to know."

Christian can feel Ana's body tense in his arms as she begins to cry.

"Shhh, baby. You are safe. You can tell me,"

After Ana sobs for what seems like ages, her body finally relaxes and for a moment Christian is afraid she has fallen asleep. But then she speaks.

"When I was ten years old I was beaten by one of Carla's 'boyfriends' and when she saw me she didn't even take me to the hospital. Instead of leaving him, she sent me back to Ray. Ray did not press charges so Carla would sign over her paternal rights and nearly beat that son of a bitch to death. It's the reason I wasn't keen on having her at our wedding and why I have nothing to do with her."

The grip Christian had on Ana increased with every word she spoke and Ana felt his hot tears begin to run down the back of her neck. Soon, the couple were both holding each other as they wept.

"Oh, baby. I am so sorry. I...what can I say? Shit! I'm so mother fucking sorry, Anastasia for what happened to you as a child and for what I just fucking did to you,"

Ana wiped her nose with the back of her hand, shaking her head sadly because of her childhood and from guilt at the omission she left out when explaining her fear of pain to Christian.

"You don't have to apologize to me, Christian."

"What's this fucker's name, Ana?"

Christian's demand was vehement and he spit it out like venom as he turned Ana to face him, who is shaking her head no.

"Tell me. Now. I am not fucking around, Ana. What's his name?"

"Please, don't yell at me. And...I just...I just can't say it,"

Christian's eyes were on fire from fury. Yes, the fury was born from discovering what had happened to Ana, but it increased tenfold as he scrutinizes the look of utter despair on her face

"Please. Let it be. I don't want to think about this."

Christian clenched his jaws together and screwed his eyes shut.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would not have ever considered doing half the things we have done. God...Ana,"

His words were one long groan and Ana knew that not only was Christian in pain for what had happened to her, but he was remembering what happened to himself as well. They shared childhood trauma.

"It's alright, Christian. We will be fine. Please, we can just lay here and hold one another."

"I wish you'd have told me you went through this. I wish you would have shared that pain and fear with me. You have held my hand through every one of my pity parties, and yet I am sure they have caused you to remember this and suffer through it all alone. I would have been there for you, Anastasia,"

Ana cups the sides of her husband's face and kisses him chastely on the lips. She can see the hurt in his eyes, the hurt that is usually due to a memory of a long ago little boy, but that is now present because of a ten year old little girl. She presses her forehead to his and sighs deeply.

"I know, Christian. I know."

"And now I know I'll never be able to cause you any pain,"

Although the couple continues surveying each other, Ana cannot help but examine those stormy gray eyes and chew over what those words adumbrate. But then Christian closes those eyes that Ana was trying to inspect. Christian's words were unmistakably malcontent and his expression was bleak and resigned, like a man who had suddenly reached a disappointing conclusion.

A/N

_Now what you've been waiting for…_


	11. Chapter 11

All rights to the story of FSoG and characters belong to E.L. James

_**A White Silk Blouse**_

_**April 3**__**rd**__**, 2015**_

The day started out completely normal. Christian and Anastasia Grey woke up, got ready for work, ate breakfast together, and then Christian gave Ana a lingering kiss as she climbed in the SUV with Sawyer and he left with Taylor. Ana was glad it was Friday and looking forward to spending the weekend on the Grace.

When Christian gave Grey Publishing to Ana the previous year, she struggled as she adjusted to the position of a CEO-something she had never aspired to. One of the first changes she implemented was two- hour weekly meetings with the different department heads. Fiction on Monday, E-books on Wednesday, and Non-fiction on Friday. Since the meetings were held at noon and for two hours, Ana had food catered in. She made these meetings at this time of day since her mornings and late afternoons were full of everyday ins and outs of being a CEO.

Sometimes Ana left these meetings annoyed at her editors who often seemed clueless about what made a best seller. She may not have spent a few years as an editor, but she'd been a damn good one and several not only get published, but a few that became very successful books that had landed Grey Publishing onto national radar. Soon, authors were seeking her company out.

After this Friday's Non-Fiction meeting, Ana became so incensed at a particular editor that she lost her appetite and didn't bother trying to eat, despite feeling Sawyer's disapproving gaze from where he stood by the doorway. She glared at him in a way that said _don't fuck with me right now_, but watched a sardonic smile on his lips.

Ana was so pissed off that she abruptly ended the meeting after only fifteen minutes. The editors rarely saw this side of Ana and scurried like rats out the door. She was annoyed, irritable, and by now, she was just plain hungry. At 12:15, And pulled out her most pitiful face, and asked Sawyer to call and order her lunch to be delivered, and told him to order himself one as well. .

While waiting, Ana read some boring and mundane emails and read a text that Christian sent at 11:50. She quickly typed back a reply, but he did not immediately reply as he usually does. She assumed he must be in a meeting.

Within twenty minutes, Ana had eaten half of her steak as she watched Sawyer practically swallow his whole.

"You're fucking disgusting,"

"Why, thank you Mrs. Grey."

This was their typical banter whenever _the boss _or _Taylor _are not around. Ana had never grown to understand why those two were such sticklers for unfriendly and professional attitudes with the security team.

"And by the way, at least my shirt isn't covered in French salad dressing,"

Looking down at her white silk blouse Ana saw what Sawyer was pointing out in his smart ass way. The entire front of her blouse was the blazing orange color of the salad dressing she must have accidentally squirted on it.

"Well, fuck this! This is one of my favorite blouses too. I hope Gail can get this out, but I bet it will be impossible. Ugh. I guess you will have to drive me over to Escala so I can change into something else. Could this day get any worse?"

Thankfully, Grey Publishing was in close enough proximity to Escala so Ana and Christian kept their closets stocked with clothes, as well as keeping it stocked with food. Christian was so kind that he did not ask Gail to come and clean the penthouse; he hired a separate cleaning company. Ana had wanted to sell it for the past two years, but Christian initially said it was a good property investment and when she brought it up again, he told her the apartment would serve as a good place for clients to stay at along with keeping spare clothes or anything else they may need while they were at work since the apartment was downtown and near both GP and GEH.

"I guess now that it's a good thing Christian insisted on keeping the penthouse for spare clothes. Let me put on my pumps and we'll head over there,"

"Do you want me to tell your PA we're leaving?"

"You can't. She is at lunch. Let's go out the back, I don't want anyone seeing the CEO playing hooky, and it's already 12:40,"

"What the hell do you care for? You're the CEO."

"Come on, this shit is soaking through my shirt and its gross,"

Without a clusterfuck of traffic, the ride to Escala is not very long. They got lucky today and Sawyer made the drive in 15 minutes. Ana's iPhone signaled a text message that she assumed was from Christian since he still had not answered her earlier text, but it was a picture from Kate of an adorable Ava covered in chocolate. It was 12:55 when Sawyer pulled into one of Grey's many designated parking spots.

Still smiling at Ava's picture on her phone, Ana looked up to notice they'd arrived when she heard Sawyer's observation that two spaces over was the SUV Taylor drove Christian to work in that morning. He said it quietly and Ana barely made out what he had said.

Ana's eyes followed the direction that Sawyer was looking toward and asked how he knew it was that particular SUV. He pointed out that all of the security team knew the license plate numbers on each vehicle Grey owned. As one part of Ana's brain wondered why in the hell their security would even need to know such useless shit, the other part of her brain registered how strange it would be for that particular SUV to be at Escala in the middle of the day. Then she snorted and laughed thinking that Taylor probably had to come and get Christian a new shirt too. Maybe he had also squirted salad dressing all over himself.

But out of nowhere and without reason, a feeling fell on Ana, like a soft breeze on a summer day, a feeling she felt guilty for even having. As Sawyer went to open his door, she waved at him to stay put as she dialed Christian's cell phone. It went straight to voicemail, meaning he had turned it off. Ana knew that was way out of the norm.

Sawyer, being completely clueless to Ana's probable paranoid but rapid-fire thoughts, just glanced around the parking garage, becoming uncomfortable by the odd look on Ana's face. Ana felt guilty about what was racing in her mind even as she dialed Christian's office number, he did not pick up so the call rolled over to the PA's desk. Olivia answered in her usual clueless way, and Ana became even more annoyed that she had gotten the idiot Olivia, who is terrified by Ana. How Christian tolerates her is beyond Ana, who glanced at her watch. It was one o'clock.

"Olivia, this is Mrs. Grey. Is Mr. Grey nearby?"

In that horrifically annoying voice of hers, Olivia told Ana that Mr. Grey was not in the office at this time, since he had left for lunch.

"He went out for lunch today? He always has it delivered,"

"He does on Tuesday's and Thursday's, Mrs. Grey. But on the other days of the week he goes out for lunch."

Ana's brain started going through its file of information and she could not find one piece of knowledge concerning this bit of information.

"Well, what time did he leave?"

"Mr. Grey always goes out for lunch at noon,"

Ana sighed deeply and looked at Sawyer who was watching her in the rear view mirror in a _what the hell is going on _kind of way.

"Did he happen to mention when he'd be back, Olivia?"

"No, because on the days he leaves for lunch we are aware he returns at 2:00,"

Ana is really confused at this point and looks at the SUV two spaces away.

"So, he always leaves at noon and is gone for two hours?"

After a very distinct pause, Olivia confirms this.

"Olivia, what days did you say Mr. Grey took these two hour lunches?"

Sounding extremely unsure of herself, as if she is wondering if she has said something she should not have, Olivia answers her boss' wife.

"Ma'am, his two hour lunches are every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, from noon until two o'clock,"

Ana is trying to think of something. Monday, Wednesday, Friday, from noon until two. Why is that familiar? Something about that is familiar to me. She starts rubbing her head the way one often does when they have a headache.

Think, Ana, Think.

The penny drops.

Ana's hand involuntarily covers her mouth, thinking of what to say.

"Olivia, do you know how long Mr. Grey has been eating his lunch out?"

"I'm not exactly sure, Mrs. Grey. But it's been awhile now,"

Ana is really trying to not let her thoughts turn into full-blown paranoia and to keep her voice steady and calm. _I trust my husband, I trust my husband._

"Does Taylor drive him to lunch?"

Sawyer turns his entire body to face her in the back seat. Even his expression is puzzled and Ana sees it, sees that Sawyer is not even aware of this.

"Yes...yes ma'am,"

Olivia is stuttering now and showing how much Ana intimidates her, which gives Ana the advantage.

"Olivia, is Andrea nearby?"

"No. No, ma'am. She has just left for lunch. Shall I have her call you?" Olivia audibly gulps over the phone.

Due to her sense of confusion and growing paranoia, Ana brings out her stern CEO voice that she has learned from Christian.

"No, I do not want Andrea to call me. And I also do not want you to inform her or Mr. Grey that I have called and that we have had this conversation. Do you understand me, Olivia?"

Olivia either does not know what to say or is too scared to reply.

"Olivia, did you hear me?"

"Yes, Mrs. Grey. I heard you,"

"Repeat what I said back to me, please."

"Umm...you told me not to tell Andrea or Mr. Grey that you called or that we ever had this conversation,"

Sawyer's brow is furrowed and he looks concerned at Ana who is clearly distressed about something and has pulled out the CEO card to scare the shit out of Olivia.

"That's what I said, Olivia. And if I find out that you go against my order and do tell Andrea or my husband about this phone conversation, I will have your ass and your job. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes...Y...Mrs. Grey. I give you my word," Olivia is choking back tears. She is clearly aware she just stepped into a pile of shit.

Ana simply ends the call and with Sawyer still turned to face her, they sit in silence. Once again, she calls her husband's phone, and once again it goes straight to voicemail. Yes, he has turned it off.

Sawyer finally clears his throat.

"What the fuck was that, Ana? What is going on?

Ana's brow is furrowed and the hair on the back of her neck begins to stand up as a strange suspicion crawls up from her intuitions gut. She is staring Sawyer straight in the eyes without really seeing him. Ana was living in her mind at this point, disjointed and bewildered, with a grave sense of dread emitting from her every pore.

Ana looks back at the SUV Taylor had driven out of their drive -way this morning. The one in which she watched her husband get into. Sawyer keeps patiently waiting for Ana to let him in on her odd behavior when he watches as her head moves swiftly to the right of them.

There it is.

The only thing missing is a spotlight shining down on it to illustrate its importance.

Parked right beside them in a space reserved for the Greys.

The explanation for a turned off cell phone and unknown two hour lunches Christian has three days a week.

A brand new cherry red Audi A3.

A submissive special.

Looking back, Ana has zero memory of what happens next.

Sawyer tells Kate he finally turned in the direction where Ana's eyes were glued as her mouth dropped open. He watched her turn as white as a corpse. Sawyer, under threat of being castrated by Katherine Grey, described the scene, explains that he began to repeat her name over and over, until Ana suddenly let out a primal scream that he had never heard. Not even on the battlefield.

Tears flew from her eyes as she began kicking and punching the back of the passenger seat while screaming her husband's name over and over, only to throw in a non -stop stream of the word why. Sawyer tells Kate that he got his cell out to call Taylor for help when Ana began to hyperventilate. But he noted that the minute Ana saw his phone, it appeared she must have comprehended what Sawyer was about to do and could hear him assuring her to calm down and he was going to call Taylor in order to reach Mr. Grey.

Sawyer describes that Ana suddenly stopped keening and shouted at him not to call anyone and ordered him to drop the fucking phone. Confused, but concerned, Sawyer looked at her shrewdly, deciding whether he should listen to Ana or call T. He was extremely protective of Ana Grey, she was like his baby sister, but he also had to follow all orders his job required. But it was obvious that something was very wrong, and it was about Mr. Grey and the red Audi beside them.

Ana continued to stare him down and he recognized pure rage mixed with unbridled hurt in her eyes. Those eyes were not asking him to not follow protocol; they were ordering him to do so. Sawyer knew Ana well enough that if she had an instinct, it was rarely wrong.

That was all it took. Sawyer dropped his phone in his lap and she nodded at him, her eyes never leaving his.

Sawyer then told Kate that in mere seconds, Ana very slowly, with a calm but deadly tone, instructed him to photograph not only the Audi but also its license plate. She also told him to write the plates numbers down as well, in case the picture was not clear. Sawyer did not ask why, it was obvious she wanted the information to find out whom this Audi belonged to.

Quickly following her instructions, he climbed back in the SUV and Ana hoarsely whispered to get them the fuck out of there fast. Sawyer, desperately worried about Ana, watched her slump over in the backseat. Her breathing came out in short gasps and he begged her to let him take her to the hospital. Ana finally found her voice and whispered for him to drive her to Kate's, but only stop if Elliot's truck was not home.

Luckily, it was not.

Having to carry Ana bridal style, Sawyer slowly made his way to Kate and Elliot's front door. Quickly enough to make Sawyer actually jump, Kate threw the front door open screaming in panic. Rushing to Sawyer and Ana, she practically pushes him inside. Slamming the door behind her, with both hands on her hips, Kate begins to rapidly fire questions at Sawyer, much of them he cannot answer. He gently places Ana's limp body on the couch as Kate runs to get her friend a cool washrag for her blood red face and to place on her reddened and swollen eyes. As Kate strokes Ana's hair, she watches tears pouring from her friends eyes. Just seeing Ana in this condition, Kate begins to weep as well. As soon as she starts crying though, Kate quickly stops. Knowing she has to be calm so her friend will be calm.

Kate motions for Sawyer to follow her into the dining room.

"What the fuck, Sawyer? What is wrong with Ana? She looks like she needs medical attention! Have you let Christian know about this and where she is?"

Kate is demanding to be told what led up to her friend being in a complete mental breakdown on her living room sofa.

Luke Sawyer had only entered into the life of Christian Grey once the lovely blue eyed Anastasia Steele moved in with him. Despite Sawyer signing the NDA Grey required, being a new part of Greys security team, he had not ever been around Mr. Grey's previous life. None of the newer guys had ever known about any of that information.

Yes, Sawyer had a long list of women's names that were not allowed anywhere near Grey, and especially not Ana. They were not even able to reach them by telephone. He assumed this was just a list of Grey's ex girlfriends. But suddenly he remembered that list of names on the _hell no list _as Reynolds called it, had grown a bit longer. Sawyer did not tell Kate about that, but he knew he was going to have to look at it on his iPad. Fuck, he thought to himself. Why hadn't it ever occurred to him that list had new names on it? Even if he always assumed they were exes of Grey's, the fucking list of women's names should not be increasing, the goddamn man is fucking married! Sawyer did not think Ana even knew such a list existed, and right now was not the best time to tell her.

Sure, Sawyer had heard bullshit comments that Grey used to be into BDSM from the CPO's that had been there longer, but Taylor would shut that shit down fast. So, with Sawyer not being absorbed with what he would eventually come to believe as Christian Grey's depravity, he was utterly clueless about what that red Audi set off in Ana Grey's mind.

Once Kate is given the simple account of what had gone down in the garage of Escala, Katherine Grey loses her shit, throwing her hands over her mouth and pacing back and forth.

"What? What? You are lying to me. Please, please, tell me you are lying to me Sawyer. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, Ana,"

"Mrs. Grey, may I ask you what is going on? From your reaction, I can ascertain you know what is going on and what has sent Mrs. Grey over the deep end. As her CPO, I really need to be aware of what is happening to her. It's my job and my duty to keep her safe."

Kate charges at Sawyer, her green eyes ferocious and he was positive she growled at him. With a finger pointed right in his face she is sneering at him.

"The only person Ana needs to be kept safe from is that twisted pervert she married. I am going to tear that motherfucker to pieces bare handed. That sick son of a bitch! FUCK!"

"Mrs. Grey, please calm down. You're not far from your due date and you shouldn't get so upset,"

"Not get upset? Are you shitting me, Sawyer? Do you really not know what's going on here or are you playing dumb for Ana's sake?"

Kate suddenly realized who Sawyer's boss was. He had to know what a sick fuck Christian Grey was and what all this evidence points to. Once again she walks up to him, with an intimidating and grim expression on her face.

"Mrs. Grey, I promise you, assure you and Ana, I have no clue what in the fuck is going on, and would love to be let in on the secret,"

Kate crosses her arms and stares at Sawyer, coolly assessing him. She knows he has always been there for Ana and that they are close. She decides to take a chance and trust him.

"Luke Sawyer, what do you know about BDSM?"

Then Kate begins to teach Sawyer BDSM 101- Christian Grey style.

Ana suddenly jumps up from the sofa and scares the shit out of Kate and Sawyer.

Ana had been listening to Sawyer and Kate talking, well mostly Kate going all journalist on him and Sawyer answering her. Even though she could hear and comprehend their conversation, she was actually turning something over in her mind.

The time.

From out of nowhere Ana demands to know where her cell phone is. Kate looks at Sawyer questionably, so he heads to the SUV to bring in her purse. As they wait, Kate holds Ana, in complete and utter disbelief. She knew exactly what all of this indicated and that Ana did too. Quietly rocking Ana, Kate appeared calm. Kate's rage had yet to come.

Kate knew something was off with Christian Grey they day she met him. It did not take that long to discover her then future brother-in-law, was one sick son of a bitch, but had suddenly given up his "lifestyle" for her best friend. Before Ana married Christian, Kate repeatedly warned her there was no way a person who had only taken part in a BDSM lifestyle for such a long time, would be able to change seemingly overnight.

Kate sat mesmerized as Ana told her all about Christian's past life and what all it included. Huge amounts of money deposited in the bank accounts of women Christian contracted to be his submissive. Not only money but also expensive clothes, and gifts of jewels. He even continued to support many of his "subs" and paid their rent and schooling. He paid for their medical insurance even after their contract ended, and since they were able to keep everything he would gift them, he would continue to pay the car insurance for those infamous cherry red Audi A 3's. Kate told Ana they were nothing but well compensated weekend whores. Just knowing Ana was aware of all this sick shit and still married that fucker made Kate want to skin someone alive. She just was not sure whom.

The fact that Ana broke Christian's NDA and that Kate knew everything about Christian and his past should not have surprised anyone. Ana even let Kate read the contract that Christian had drawn up for the two of them and Kate; a self-proclaimed slut was even shocked. Half of that sex shit was acts Kate never knew existed. Christian would have killed his wife had he been aware that she had told Kate all about him, but Kate and Ana were closer than identical twins; they had no secrets, nor would either woman hurt their family by allowing Christian's secrets to come out. No matter how much Kate actually wanted Ana away from Christian, she never said so, and as years past Kate was able to reign in her attitude towards her brother-in-law. Partly for Elliot, but mainly for her best friend.

The most disgusting part of Christian's "lifestyle" was when Kate saw the files he kept on them all. One drunken night at Escala while Christian was away on business, Ana and Kate went into his office, after begging Sawyer to turn off the CCTV camera in it. Then Ana got into a file cabinet and handed Kate fifteen files with names typed on each tab. They read the women's details aloud and being drunk, laughed hysterically at how many of these women consented to anal fisting. After reading that, Kate screamed loudly about how large Christian's hands were, how was that even possible?

But then, Kate's drunken haze cleared for a minute as she squinted her eyes at the pictures of Christian's playthings, her green eyes looked at Ana sideways. Ana being Ana knew her friend had put a puzzle together: they all looked alike and Ana looked like them. How her best friend rationalized this and still stomached this man was not something Kate would ever understand. Perhaps Christian had changed, but to Kate how could Ana look over the _ick_ factor of the entire situation, or how did she overlook what had happened to her as a child and partake in certain aspects of what Ana referred to as _playing_?

Sawyer came back in the house carrying Ana's purse, quietly approaching the two distraught women, he cleared his throat softly to make his presence known. It was Kate that took Ana's purse from him and retrieved her phone. Ana's shaking hands took the phone and went to her calls. She studied each of them closely and they were like pitch forks being rammed into her soul. No one said a word as Ana went over the time of Christian's text at 11:50, ten minutes before he had left Grey House according to Olivia.

Still staring at her call log, Ana knew for sure that Christian texted her saying he wanted her to suck him off later that night, ten minutes before walked out of GEH to beat and fuck his well paid whore. What a goddamn fool she was. So from that text at 11:50 to roughly around 1:15 when she turned her head to that awful sight, her marriage ended.

Life as she knew it was over. Although she felt as if she were suffocating, Ana just could not make herself breathe as she looked up into Kate's angry eyes and simply said they pulled into the parking garage of Escala at 12:55 and she saw the Audi roughly around 1:15.

"Kate, it took me twenty minutes to discover my marriage was a joke,"

For what seemed like an eternity, no one uttered a word. But from out of the blue, it seemed as if both these pint- sized women were attacking the hulking man that was Luke Sawyer. The attack was not physical it was with words. Kate's eyes quickly narrowed and demanded to know how long this had been going on, that she no longer trusted that he was ignorant of the situation. What this whore's name? Ana yelled while choking on tears that she could not believe what a fool he had made of her, how close she had gotten to him and thought she could trust him. Sawyer, truly knew nothing, and threw his hands up in the air in defense. He swore he knew nothing, repeating it over and over again.

Despite half screaming herself, whenever Ana or Sawyer raised their voices in the slightest, Kate snarled at them to shut the fuck up, that Ava was still napping. Suddenly, Kate becomes panicked.

"Ana, what the fuck are you going to do? Oh, fuck,"

Ana's eyes widened and she looked at Sawyer.

"What time is it, Sawyer? How long have been here?"

Kate answers for him as though he does not exist.

"It is just past two o'clock,"

Ana lets out a bitter and disgusted laugh.

"Mr. Grey is back at his office now. I wonder if he washed all the cum off his cock."

Ana dropped her face into her hands crying.

"Sawyer, what am I going to do? What if Christian just pops into GP, as he is prone to do? What if he calls my office phone and it rolls to Hannah, who has no clue that I left and then she'll tell him I'm gone and then…."

By now, Ana has worked herself back to near hyperventilating again with Kate and Sawyer both kneeling beside her.

"Steele! Concentrate. It's time to concentrate,"

Kate has Ana's face in her hands and is trying to bring her back from where she lost herself. Ana wipes her tears away with the back of her head and nods at her best friend.

"Did either of you tell anyone at GP that you were going to Escala?"

Ana shakes her head, but it's Sawyer that speaks up.

"No. We just left out the back of the building,"

"Okay, that's a positive thing. If nobody knows that's where you were headed, nobody can tell Christian or Taylor, so they won't know what you discovered."

Even though Kate was trying to figure out whether or not the tornado called Christian Grey was about to descend upon her home, Ana's mind was on what a fool she was. What a fool Christian thought she was. Not just Christian, but fucking Taylor as well. Ana crossed her arms and was looking between Sawyer and Kate. Her blue eyes had dried and although she still looked wild and disheveled, she also looked determined.

"I am heartbroken and distraught, but I am not going to simply walk up to this viper I've been sleeping next to every night and inform him of what I saw. He will use his business like spin on it and turn it all around. No, this is not going to be so easy for Christian. I need hard facts, names, proof,"

Ana looks Sawyer square in the eyes. He was still standing stoically beside Kate, but he wished the floor would swallow him up. He wanted to kill Grey and could not believe that Taylor would betray Ana either. He knew how protective Jason was of Ana Grey. Perhaps, Sawyer thought, Taylor was trying to protect Ana from her own husband? What a fuck up all around.

"Do not lie to me, Luke. What can you discover from that cars license plate number?

Sawyer knew that was a piece of cake and was nothing that required Barney to uncover.

"You're able to find out who the vehicle is registered to and when they registered it. With that information you're able to obtain an address as well as who has insurance on the vehicle,"

Christian Grey's security team consisted of ex Green Berets, ex FBI, ex Seals; pretty much all members of Special Forces. They were not in his employment just to physically protect his family, but also because they were trained to be stealth and how to obtain information in ways that were unobtainable.

At the very same time, Kate and Ana asked him the same question:

"Do you know how to access all that information?"

Their question nearly caused him to laugh, and he would have if they were not so fucking scary. Sawyer knew he could get the information they wanted blind folded.

Sawyer watched Kate's angry eyes meet Ana's and was fully aware these two highly intelligent women were deciding if they could trust him.

"Ana, remember whose payroll he's on,"

But Ana did not reply to her best friend, she kept her eyes fixated on Sawyer and she knew how he felt.

Sawyer's astute eyes took in Ana's demeanor and he read her body language. She trusted him and there was not any debate in his mind as to what he should do. Ana Grey was a beautiful woman, inside and out and Luke Sawyer had grown to respect her greatly and called her a friend. Hell, they spent more time together than Ana and Grey did.

But today Sawyer had watched Ana's life blown to bits. Yes, he was paid very well to protect Ana Grey, but now it appeared his job was to protect her from her own husband. But he also knew there was a list of women's names inside his iPad and he was going to have to not only tell Ana about it, but also show her when the list began getting longer. Would she ever trust him again?

Looking at Kate, he asked if she had a computer that Elliot did not use. Kate shook her head that she did not but went to get her iPad and handed it to him. Sawyer sat down at their dining room table as Ana and Kate remained on the sofa holding hands. The entire house was full of an oppressive silence.

Sawyer began their bidding. All three knowing they would have an answer in a matter of minutes. Once he saw the definitive proof about that red Audi, Sawyer closed his eyes for the slightest moment.

The women had their backs to him and could not see the far away look and anger in his eyes. Suddenly, he wondered the same thing that Kate had-what would they do? He knew where his loyalty was at and would go the way Ana went. But whatever Ana decided to do about this, what would he do around Grey and Taylor? He could not comprehend how he would be able to not kill Grey. How he would interact with Taylor in normal fashion while the respect he had for Taylor disappeared as he looked at the screen of Kate's iPad.

He braced himself and stood up slowly, walking quietly to stand before Ana and Kate. Sawyer's expression was all they both needed.

Kate tore the tablet from his hands and read what he'd found. She gasped, unable to even look at her friend. Ana already knew what Kate had read and with more force than Sawyer and Kate had heard her say since Sawyer carried her into Kate and Elliot's home, she ordered Kate to tell her.

Kate shook her head no while tears poured down her cheeks.

"Who bought the car, Kate?"

"Ana, please…"

"Tell me, who bought and registered the goddamn car?"

"Jason Taylor,"

A slice of Ana's heart is cut away.

"Give me the date that mother fucker registered the car for Christian's whore."

"Oh, Ana..."

"God help me Katherine. When?

"February 4th, 2015,"

Another piece of Ana's heart is sawed away.

"Whose name is listed on the cars insurance policy?"

Ana's voice was barren of emotion, but a single tear was falling from one of her cloudy blue eyes. Sawyer was too furious to watch as Ana's inner core was being killed and had to turn his back on the women, while Kate was copiously weeping, the iPad shaking in her hands.

"Jason Taylor,"

More of Ana's heart was just chopped off.

"And what address is listed on the cars registration and insurance?

Kate took in a huge, gulping breath and closed her eyes. She would not be able to handle the look on Ana's face once she answered her question.

"The address that was given...the address...oh, Ana Banana, I'm so sorry. The address is Christian's address at Escala,"

And now Ana had no more heart to cut out.

Kate grabbed her best friend and sobbed into her neck and although Sawyer turned back toward them, he just stood where he was. They were expecting Ana to faint or become hysterical again. Instead, she surprised them both by laughing bitterly.

"That's exactly how Christian handled the purchasing of all those other little red Audi's. He told me. He told me everything. And it's still how he's handling it."

Kate and Sawyer did not reply because there were not sufficient words they could reply with.

Ana looked at each of their faces, both full of everything except pity and she squared her shoulders. She spoke in a determined and now heartless tone, and Kate and Sawyer knew it was going to be all or nothing.

"It looks like I've got a lot of planning to do."


	12. Chapter 12

All characters and the story of FSoG belong to E. L. James

_**The Truth About A Puzzle**_

_**April 3**__**rd**__**, 2015**_

Katherine Grey and Luke Sawyer are staring at Anastasia Grey as if she has lost her mind due to the words she has just spoken. Kate, in typical fashion, was the first one to close her gaping mouth to only pop it back open and loudly barrage Ana with questions, as if she's determining whether her friend needs to be admitted to the nearest mental facility or not.

"Plans? You had better start making plans for what? They had best be plans of Sawyer driving you to Home Depot to buy a chainsaw to slice off Christian Grey's dick and balls,"

Kate's comment was not meant to be a joke but Sawyer chuckled anyway. Ana was still staring at nothing in particular, while an aching of agony was tearing her apart. The fact that she still had all of her limbs shocked her. She was sure this searing pain had burned them off her body, and all that remained must have been blackened flesh. The pain was visceral, a white-hot anger mixed with bone crushing heartbreak, and a bitter tasting betrayal. A betrayal that covered Ana in bile and a betrayal that she knew she would never be able to wash off.

"No, Kate. I have no intention to purchase a chainsaw and could you imagine the media's reaction to _The Mrs. Christian Grey _shopping at Home Depot?"

Ana still would not look at Kate or Sawyer and her sarcastic reply was bored, monotone, and flat.

"Well, enlighten me then. I'm all fucking ears,"

Ana could feel what remained of her soul beginning to crack and she wasn't positive how much longer she was going to be able to handle interacting with another human being. Her heart had been cut out, her body had left her, and all she had left was a semblance of her mind, which although was now set on autopilot, it was running smoothly.

"All we know is that there is a red Audi that appears Jason Taylor so kindly wrapped up in a pretty little bow to present to some whore. We also know my husband has been having two-hour lunches on the very days and at the exact times that I hold my department meetings. How convenient for the son of a bitch...What I meant by making a plan is that we all know there's more information to be found and I plan on finding every bit of that information."

Kate looks to Sawyer with one eyebrow raised and he knows what she is going to ask before the words are out of her mouth and all he wants to tell Kate is to shut the fuck up.

"How can we find more information, Sawyer? You're the secret agent man, so fill us in and don't bullshit us either,"

"Mrs. Grey...Ana, what does information mean to you? What do you want to find out?"

Sawyer has lost his usual stoic and impassive attitude and has knelt beside Ana in order to hold her hand. He feels how cold and clammy it is, how pale she is even her lips are pale. Ana clears her throat and cocks her head to one side, gazing in Sawyer's eyes. If she had found pity in them she surely would have shot him.

"To me, information means everything about a person. Name. Age. Address. Phone number. When they took their last shit. When I said information, I meant I want to know everything there is to know,"

Looking at Ana's face up close, Sawyer sees a broken twenty-four year old woman who wants to know something, anything about the woman, or submissive, whatever the fuck the whore is called, and unfortunately for Sawyer, he can give Ana a part of that information right now. That one very important part will lead them to the rest of what Ana needs to know. Sighing with resignation, Sawyer lets go of Ana's hand and stands up. He does not want to do this, he does not want Ana to believe for one second that he was aware of anything, and was not hiding something from her. But he is fully cognizant of what this looks like and imagines what Ana's reaction will be, but Sawyer realizes he has to do it because he has no other choice.

"I'll be right back. I've got to get something from the SUV."

Kate springs up from her chair effectively blocking his way, suspicion written all over her beautiful face.

"For what? To call Taylor or Grey and give them a heads up?"

If this is the way Kate Grey usually behaves, Sawyer wonders how Elliot has kept from choking her since he is one breath away from doing it himself.

"No, Mrs. Grey. I would not do that and I will leave my phone in here to prove that to you,"

"Well, I'll accompany you anyway since I still don't fully trust where your loyalty lies."

Sawyer does not respond to Kate Grey's hostile voice and aggressive attitude; he merely uses his arm to indicate for her to lead the way.

"What are you getting, Luke?"

"Something I need to show Ana, and I suppose you as well. Just be ready if we have to scrape her off the floor,"

The second Sawyer sees his fucking iPad he feels nauseous and once Kate realizes what he has in his hands, she immediately tries to pry it away from him.

"Please, Mrs. Grey. If you break this, I can't show something to Ana,"

Kate pays no heed to his words because she has started sweating from panic, her blood pressure must surely be through the roof. There is no fucking way he is going to hurt Anastasia and despite the fact that she is heavily pregnant, Kate continues to wrestle Sawyers iPad from his hands. Although she is approaching full-blown hysteria Kate is able to keep her voice low.

"What's on this? Pictures? Pictures of Grey fucking his whore? Fucking tell me before you go in there and finish killing my best friend!"

"There are no pictures, Mrs. Grey and for your own sake, please calm down. I realize you are trying to protect Mrs. Grey but you are pregnant and it is not good for you or your baby to get so upset. I promise you will see what I need to show and explain to Ana, but for the love of Christ almighty, let's go inside in and approach her in a calm manner. I know you can tell that your best friend is nearing the point of destruction. Let's make this easier on her. Agreed?"

"What in the holy fuck are you about to do to her, Sawyer? I need a heads up before I follow you back in there and allow you to finish off what Grey has started,"

Now Luke Sawyer is angry. Does Kate Grey really think he would purposely do something to hurt Ana? She knows damn well how his relationship with Ana is like and you would assume Kate would realize he would not hurt her. Suddenly not giving a flying fuck that she is about to squirt out a baby, his urge to choke the shit out of her has returned with a vengeance.

"Just trust me. This is a small amount of information that I can give Ana. I never knew what it..."

Kate starts turning in circles with her hands on top of her head and cannot believe any of this has happened and knows there is not a damn thing she can do to protect her best friend. Her hands are tied, she is helpless, and all she wants is Christian Grey's blood. Fucking Christian Grey, her husband's goddamn brother. Oh, my God. Elliot. If Kate's large, pregnant stomach was not preventing her from doing it; she would be bent over in agony as she has suddenly remembered her husband. Her husband, Elliot who loves his brother so goddamn much.

"Sawyer…What about Elliot? What are we going to do about Elliot? Oh, hell. This is all a colossal disaster. Oh, shit,"

"What do you mean? Is he due home soon?"

Now Luke Sawyer is getting as anxious as Kate is. He'd fucking forgot all about Elliot Grey. Kate is shaking her head no but is still walking around in circles and it is beginning to make Sawyer dizzy by just watching her.

"No, not until very late tonight, he is at a site in Olympia. What I mean is what are we going to say to him? What are we going to tell him? Oh, Ana is out of her mind in our guest room because your brother is a sexual deviant that beats willing women with canes? Holy, God!"

"Mrs. Grey, don't worry about Mr. Grey then. We don't even know that Ana will be here then since we have no idea what she's going to do,"

"Yeah, you're right we don't know. And Luke, I'm not going to scream again but does that iPad prove you've been aware of something and have kept it from Ana because of your boss?"

"No,"

He is done with this interrogation and what he would consider as ridiculous drama if he was not aware that Kate is only behaving this way because of her deep abiding love for Ana.

Still looking at him with skeptical green eyes, Kate walks back in the house with Sawyer behind her, and they both blow out a long and fearful breath. They find Ana in the same spot, staring at the same nothingness and wearing the same expression-which isn't one. If Kate knew a psychiatrist she would have already called one.

"Ana, let's all go sit at the dining room table. I need to show you something that I am not even sure you know exists, and I am not exactly sure of what it means. And I am so sorry if it does imply what I'm beginning to suspect it does."

Knowing Kate is nearly incapable of keeping her mouth shut; Sawyer shoots her a stare that denotes her to.

Sawyer is helping Ana get off the sofa by her elbow and leads her to the dining room table. Kate is eyeing him with distrust and mouths, "What the fuck?" Sawyer does not acknowledge her; he only pulls his chair closer to Ana's, still holding onto an electronic device that could possibly contain more force than a hurricane.

Fuck, he does not want to do this.

"Like I just said Ana, I have no idea if you're aware of this or not, but I have a list..."

Before Sawyer can finish, Kate has jumped up from her seat like a rocket being sent into space and she slams both her hands on the table.

"Hang onto your balls, Sawyer! What kind of goddamn list? What do you really know? Ana, I told you..."

Ana already felt like an overflowing gas tank and she could not take any more arguing or Kate's rash outbursts, no matter how much she loved her and knew the loving place Kate was coming from. But despite all that, Ana interrupted Kate in a raised voice, loud enough to shut her up, but not enough to wake up Ava.

"Shut it up, Kate! We would fucking know what he is telling us if you would let him. For fuck's sake, let the man speak,"

Katherine knew this side of Ana quite well and sat back down, blowing out the breath of air that she'd been holding. Anastasia was sweet, caring, and compassionate and everything wonderful that a person could be, she could also be harsh, straight to the point, and when pushed, Ana would not back down from a fight.

"As I was saying, Ana, when I was hired as your CPO in 2012, I was given a proscribed list of people...well; they were all women. It contained names of women who are never to be allowed near you, to approach you, to call you, or send you mail. I was to keep them away from you at all times."

Sawyer pauses to examine Ana's reaction before he decides to continue, but her face is still blank and unreadable. Pale and blank. He then continues, still speaking in a low and sincere voice.

"Each member of the security team has the same list, as does Andrea and Olivia over at Grey House, because these same women are to never have access to Grey either. They are also to never approach any Grey family member or step one foot on anything that Grey owns. Were you aware of any of this, Ana?"

She simply shakes her head no, that blank expression hanging off of her face. Kate on the other hand looks livid, but does manage to keep her mouth shut while Sawyer continues.

"When I was first hired and Barney loaded it on the iPad they assigned me, I assumed these women were ex girlfriends of Mr. Grey's. I had no prior knowledge of his past lifestyle, other than a few crude comments from the older members of Grey's security team, but I never delved further into it, or considered that these women were anything other than an ex of your husband,"

Ana finally turns to look at Sawyer wearing that same blank expression but her eyes are telling him of her hurt, her rage. Despite this perfect storm that has brewed itself inside of her, Ana's voice is eerily calm.

"No, I had no knowledge of any of this, but it doesn't shock me considering what a control freak Christian is. And you're going to have to forgive me for asking this, especially since I'm not trying to be a complete bitch, but what in the fuck aren't you telling me?"

Luke Sawyer feels the spotlight of Ana and Kate's burning gazes on his skin. It is as if he is a performer on a stage and they are the only two in the audience. If these women could see inside of Sawyer, they would watch a man's heart turn inside out from what he knows he's about to do to his friend.

"It's always Barney who downloads any new or pertinent information onto our iPads. There are also instances when he updates older information we already have. I will be honest when I say that I never pay attention to half of his dumb shit or check every fucking update unless it involves a new threat or such. But security team members know if a woman makes an appointment with you or approaches you in public, we are ordered to find out whom they are. I know you have seen me do that on several occasions.

Sawyer stops to take a breath, but looking at Ana he realizes he needs to give her a minute. She still looks deathly pale, practically anemic, like a person on their deathbed who is receiving a blood transfusion. It is then Sawyer finally notices that Ana never had the chance to change her soiled white blouse.

"Kate, can you get Ana another shirt? I can't believe we haven't thought of getting her out of this one."

"Oh fuck, you're right. I'm sorry Ana Banana. I just completely forgot. I'll go grab one,"

"No, Kate. Don't get up, you are about to pop out a baby and just because I have lost half of my mind, I haven't missed how swollen your ankles are. Plus, I want to keep this shirt on. This very expensive silk blouse that although it is ruined and covered in bright orange salad dressing, it has actually been ruined and covered in my own blood. Or at least that is how I feel. Gutted and soaked in my own blood."

Ana has completely silenced both Sawyer and Kate, who cannot even bare to look at one another.

Katherine Grey's heart breaks from Ana's words and her obvious devastation. Unable to keep herself together a second longer, Kate buries her head in her hands and weeps, for this deathblow that Ana is feeling, for looking back in time and insisting that Ana accompany her to that opening night of The Mile High Club. If she had never pushed that on Ana, Ana would not have ever fallen into the path of one Christian Grey. Kate is overwhelmed with guilt thinking that this is somehow her fault and the only thing she can think of is that worthless phrase, "_What if?"_

Sawyer glances at his watch and silently curses to himself. They've been here quite awhile but since he's heard no word from Taylor, all appears good for now, but he knows that they have to figure out what to do, or at least Ana does, and they need to decide before Grey remembers he has a wife and tries to contact her. Sawyer also knows he has got to finish what he has started, and then suffer its probable ramifications.

Sawyer is torn from his thoughts and dread by Kate talking to him through her sniffles. Fuck, he thinks looking between Ana and Kate, each one looking weary, one deathly pale, the other wearing swollen, and blood shot eyes.

"Ana wants you to finish, Sawyer,"

Kate is speaking in a soft and kind voice that Sawyer has never heard come out of her mouth. Her hard and tenacious personality, those slingshot questions, and sharp tongue have disappeared. The only thing he recognizes now is a woman's deep love of her best friend, whose hand she is now gripping tightly. Between the ticking of a grandfather clock, the only other noise in this vast home is the quiet stirrings of Ava who is beginning to awake from her nap.

But then Ana gazes at Sawyer with blue eyes that have started to clear up slightly and asks him a question he doesn't understand and that leaves him suspiciously puzzled.

"Were you ever informed of a specific physical resemblance when you were given this proscribed list of names?"

That dead flat voice Ana had been speaking with just minutes ago appears to be trying to revive itself, but as soon as that thought enters Sawyer's mind, he catches the sly glance Kate shoots at Ana. Whatever Ana is talking about is something Kate is already aware of.

"No, never. I've only been ordered to follow protocol concerning your proscribed list of those who cannot come into contact with you,"

Very reluctantly, Luke Sawyer passes his white iPad toward Ana and places it directly in front of her at the table. He has already brought up the files, so with one swipe of the screen, Sawyer is going to point out something that may end his friendship with Anastasia Grey forever, or more importantly, damage Ana even further.

"Before you open this up, I want to finish explaining something to you, to pick up what I was saying a minute ago. I told you I do check out a few updates but not the very second Barney the geek downloads them. A long while ago, I did get an update on the proscribed list of names I am expected to protect you from."

"Luke Sawyer, as the woman you have spent three years with, please define 'a long while ago'."

Sawyer's shame is evident with look in his eyes and dragging this out is killing them both and he decides to push that answer aside for now.

"With each new name…"

Ana now knows what Sawyer is telling her and drops her face into her hands waiting for him to finish, but once he said the word 'new,' Kate begins screeching at him.

"New names as in new women? I fucking knew that you were all too aware of this. God damn you, Sawyer! Just fuck you straight to hell!"

"Let him finish, Kate. Then I want to see it for myself," Ana's voice is barely a whisper drifting from her mouth that is buried deeply in her hands.

"Ana, with each new… name, I asked who they were and why they were added. Every time I asked T, he told me the same story; she was another ex that was bothering Grey in one way or another, usually concerning money. I mistakenly took Taylor and Barney's word for it and did not question them further. I saw that you and Mr. Grey appeared happy with one another and in a million years I would not have ever doubted Grey's fidelity to you. For that, you will never know how sorry I am or how much of a fucking bastard I feel like right now."

"As you should, Sawyer. You are just like the rest of Greys overpriced goon squad. You'll be fucking lucky if you leave here with your nads still intact. Just, fuck you Luke!"

"Kate, please lose telling Luke to fuck off! Please, just hush for now. Luke, I'm done with explanations and hearing what an asshole you think you are,"

It is then, as Ana finishes her sentence that she takes her right index finger and swipes the iPad open. Sawyer and Kate shoot each other a flashing glance across the table and he nods at Kate to scoot her chair closer to Ana, whose expression has not changed even as she is looking down at an app listed under 'A's proscribed.' Inside Ana is thinking it is pretty fucking ironic how this app is so pathetically and simply named considering what she has just read and the horrific truth she has just been made aware about. Barney should have named it "Let's destroy Ana and laugh behind her back." What a fucking fool they must all think she is.

If Ana could have her way she would walk into Grey House right this minute carrying either an M16 or an AR-15 and methodically work her way around the 20th floor, blowing away limbs and heads off. Starting with Welch, then onto Barney, Andrea would be next before she made it to the _big boys, _Taylor, and his cocksucker, Reynolds. Last but not least, as she sits at Kate's dining room table, Ana is imagining in vivid technicolor lights, the way she would begin shooting Christian Grey's body apart, starting at his ankles and working her way up. Only using one shot until she aimed at his heart where she would unload her entire clip, albeit for one last round that she would blast his head off with. Ana watched herself then descend in an elevator, covered in the blood of traitors and wearing her brightest beaming smile.

When Ana looks up, Sawyer is shocked her eyes do not meet his; instead they lock onto Kate's wide and fearful ones. They are both internally rattled at the fact that Ana is not crying or reacting as they expected, or even as she probably should be. Kate wonders if perhaps the color coming back to Ana's cheek is from an impending explosion of rage and is holding her breath waiting for it to go off. It never comes. Instead Ana asks Kate a question in her usual tone of voice. It sounds quite normal, scarily normal. Sawyer realizes that Kate probably does not know that Ana is on autopilot now, trying desperately to regain a sense of control that she has lost. He knows she is reaching for something to hang onto because she is actually falling into a pit; a place she has never been that is dark and haunted. Sawyer would much rather be back in that SUV watching her beat the shit out of that passengers seat than to be witnessing this.

"Kate, do you remember how many there were?"

Blinking rapidly and swallowing so hard that you would think she was choking on a piece of steak, Kate nods her head. Sawyer knows what she is asking her friend and is dreading what Ana will soon say next.

"Yes, Ana. I remember. You told me fifteen. That there had been fifteen submissives not counting the ones he fucked before he began to contract these women. Why are you asking me this?"

Kate's panic is not hidden and then tentatively moves the iPad a bit toward her so she can read it. The gasp she makes is barely noticeable, but it is enough to make Sawyer divert his eyes. This all just seems too fucking personal, too god damn real. He only looks back at the women because of Kate's vicious sneer that is directed squarely at him as she's picked up his iPad and is waving it around in the air.

"You honestly think we fucking believe that you didn't know what _THIS _meant? You are all nothing but a vat of poison that you allowed Ana to marinate in! Do you see this, Sawyer? Are you going to look Ana in the eyes and tell her to believe you when you say you never put two plus two together and ended up with four?"

Sawyer does not reply, because he does not know what to say. Was he just too lazy to question it? Did he just think it was not his place to do so; it was not a job requirement to _find out _if Grey was dipping his cock somewhere else, but it was his job to protect Ana, but he had failed her miserably. He deserves every spiteful word Kate has thrown at him for the past two hours.

"Luke, when Kate was explaining all of Christian's fucked up shit did she explain about the length of his typical contract?"

"No, Ana,"

"No?"

"Ana, I'll fucking fill him in."

"No, you won't. I am. Luke, your boss usually kept his whore for three months. If she particularly pleased him he would extend the length, it seems like he told me the longest one had lasted eighteen months. And are you telling me you don't remember or weren't given a specific date as each name appeared?"

"I promise that I don't recall the specific date that it changed, and I'm sorrier than fuck to god damn tell you I do remember that it wasn't very long after Grey hired me,"

"After we got married in 2012?"

He can only nod yes, and the simultaneous intakes of air that Ana and Kate suck into their lungs leave Sawyer without oxygen, but he realized he probably did not deserve any. Ana stood up so quickly that her chair fell backward and at that exact moment her niece began to cry. Kate went to get Ava and brought her back into the living room where Ana was staring out the window.

"Let me get her a sippy cup of apple juice and then we're going to look up these names and see if we can find out something, anything, even if it's just a phone number. Just stay calm for a minute."

"Ana, if that's what you decide you need to have, I can access it in a heartbeat. But do not do this now and hurt yourself anymore. Please,"

Sawyer watches helplessly at the back of Ana's head as she holds up her hand for him to shut up and begins to speak in a voice full of confession.

"If I had to describe how I feel right now, I'd have to say I feel like a puzzle piece. You know the kind, those giant puzzles of some obscure landscape where each piece is the same fucking color and it is nearly impossible to discern what goes where. I feel as if I'm a rectangular puzzle piece and someone is trying to shove a circular piece where I should be. That's not describing I'm attempting to find a way to piece this shit with Christian back together, it means that I feel lost and I'm not sure how I'm going to piece myself back together. Does that make sense?"

Ana just irrevocably broke Luke Sawyer's heart.

"Yes, Ana. That makes perfect sense,"

"I know you're telling me the truth, Luke. Christian would never put out any information or indication as to what those names actually referred to and Jason would protect Christian until the very end. And I understand why you never questioned what you were told. So don't feel as if I don't trust you or am angry with you, because I'm not."

Katherine comes back in holding Ava and places her in front of her dollhouse to play, Kate has brought in her iPad and tells Sawyer to get his and to start throwing out names she can look up and try to find out something about them. Before they begin, Both Kate and Sawyer tell Ana to turn around and ask if she is sure she wants to do this now.

"Fuck yes, I do. I want to hear each name so that I remember them every time I ever have to look at Christian Grey. Sawyers, please start, and do me a favor. Me and Kate know when Christian first met me he had just ended a contract with sub number fifteen, and I'm not asking this to be a masochist, but just as more of a reminder of what Christian really is, before you tell Kate the name of each whore, say the number they were, starting after number fifteen,"

"Ana, you're only hurting yourself. Kate explain that to her. She isn't hurting him by this, she's hurting herself god damn it."

"Sawyer, at this point, do you really believe that Ana is unaware she has nothing left to lose? Now do what she's asked of you or I will,"

Sawyer grits his teeth and would actually prefer to stick his own Glock in his mouth than say this shit out loud which is only rubbing salt into Ana's open flesh. She is forcing him to kick her while she is down. He does not understand why she is doing this to herself, she is too kind to everyone, too giving, too loving to others. Then he realizes that Ana is only like that to other people, just never to herself.

"God damn you, Sawyer! Stop fucking around and do what I said!"

The vehemence in Ana's voice finally breaks his silence and he's about to begin but she interrupts him.

"You know that since we have these names that you're obligated to me to find out dates, exact dates. And after that there is so much more to find out. Now begin,"

Glancing at Kate to see if she is ready to type in the first name, Sawyer sees her nod at him. He exhales deeply, imagining the bullets he wants to blow into Grey and Taylor's brain stems.

"Number sixteen is named Hillary Wilkins."

Ana has turned back around and is watching Kate pecking away on her fucking iPad, perhaps for a phone number or whatever else she may find. Kate shakes her head no and Sawyer reads again.

"Number seventeen is named Leigh Kennedy,"

Minutes go by. Ana is grinning as she watches a white haired Ava making two of her dolls kiss. Kate shakes her head again and looks to Ana who appears to have disentangled her mind from her body. What they are doing is so wrong and Katherine understands why Ana is doing this to herself. Why a ten-year old Anastasia Steele is doing this to herself. Kate has just realized she should have called Ray.

"Fuck! Number eighteen is Molly Garner."

More moments of silence until a weeping Kate shakes her head once more.

"Number nineteen is Jennifer Lawson,"

Sawyer cannot believe Ana is standing there so nonchalantly, smiling down on Ava. Her arms are crossed in front of her and he can see _normal _Ana standing there.

"Nothing, Sawyer."

"The last one, number twenty is Haley Sams,"

Now he watches as Ana gets down on the floor and begins playing dolls with her niece.

"Again, it's negative,"

Kate flops backward on the sofa while Ana continues playing with Ava and Sawyer feels as if he is in an episode of the Twilight Zone. After several long and quiet minutes Ana finally speaks.

"Luke, you said you could access anything I wanted to know but you can't. You see, Christian keeps files on them. Background checks, NDA's, the contract, and then those agreements over shit like vaginal and anal fisting."

"Where are they located at?"

"Kate tell him,"

Kate sighs deeply but remains on the sofa and for some reason she waves an arm in the air, never bothering to turn and look at Sawyer.

"In a file cabinet in his office at Escala. Or at least he did."

Sawyer can see it coming from a mile away and dreads its impending doom. He is praying that he loses his hearing before Ana says it, already wanting to shake his head no. Not just no, but hell fucking no.

Ana stands up and looks Sawyer defiantly in the eyes.

"This means we have to get into Escala and get to that file cabinet which I have the combination to. So you are going to have to do your job and cut off the CCTV cameras so Taylor and Christian will never know we have been there or what we are going to do. And another thing-we're doing it tomorrow,"

"Ana..."

Before Sawyer can finish his sentence Ana's iPhone rings.

It is Christian's ring tone.


	13. Chapter 13

All characters and the story of FsoG belong to E. L. James

_**Just Because I Said It Doesn't Mean I Meant It**_

_**April 3**__**rd**__**, 2015**_

As Christian's ring tone filled Kate's living room, Luke Sawyer pointed at Kate and gestured for her to leave the room with Ava. If Christian heard a child in the background, he would question Ana's whereabouts. Sawyer also knew he had to concentrate on every word Ana said to her husband, because he would have to report it all back to Taylor.

"Whatever you say or chose to do, I'm with you Ana, just don't give Grey too much information."

Ana gave him a small, tight smile and braced herself against the unknown. Evasive, Ana. Be evasive. Stay close enough to the truth that it does not appear as though you are lying and sound normal. Normal. Normal.

"Hi, Christian! Do you know I've been waiting for my sexy husband to return my text all day?"

_You sick fucking bastard._

"I'm sorry, baby. I have been in one meeting after another and then to be honest, I forgot. I'll make it up to you tonight."

_The__ fuck you will._

"Oh, I understand how that goes. But then I really got frustrated when I tried to call you a few times and it went straight to voice mail."

_You know when you were balls deep in that whore._

"That was probably when I had Andrea charging it for me. Was there something you needed? Was everything alright?"

_What a skilled liar you are._

"No, I just answered your text and you never replied, so I just thought I'd call you and see what was up."

_Beside__ your sick fucking cock that is._

"My cell was charging, baby. I'm sorry you got frustrated. Other than that, how was your day?"

_Just peachy, thanks to you._

"Oh, I had a few unexpected things that suddenly popped up and I had to handle them. How was your day of mergers and acquisitions?"

_And caning petite brown-haired women who look like your birth mother? Fucking sick, fuck._

"Dull as usual with one meeting after another. So, what happened over there that you had to handle? Nothing too serious I hope."

_Other __than finding out I am married to a sociopath._

"Well, I had to deal with an unprepared editor at my department head meeting at noon, so I just canceled it around twelve-fifteen. It's just been really stressful and I've got a headache from hell."

_Yeah, hell. Where I am going to send you._

"A headache? Ana, did you eat lunch? You know I've told you not eating can give you a headache."

_Did anyone ever tell you fucking multiple women might give you an STD that you could have brought home to me?_

Ana laughs. "Yeah, in fact, I did. Sawyer ordered us a steak and salad and my messy self managed to get salad dressing all over the front of my shirt, and I am positive the blouse is ruined. Sawyer was about to head over to Escala to pick up one of my shirts, but I just had him run out and buy me one real quick."

_Come on, Christian. What would you have done if that had happened?_

"It was probably closer for him to just buy you something. There are so many boutiques around GP plus Escala can be hell to get to if there's a lot of traffic."

_Good __save, you evil motherfucker._

"Well, it was just around one o'clock so there wouldn't have been any traffic. I am glad we decided to keep the penthouse. You never know what you will need it for."

_How I am managing this conversation so well is proof there is a God._

"I was just calling to see if you were able to get out of there already. I am heading home now and thought we could have an early dinner. This entire week has kicked my ass and I just want to spend time with my beautiful wife."

_How __could I have married this creature from Satan?_

"You know what, I actually can leave early. I have a few issues I need to make decisions about, but then I can come on home. What are you thinking of for dinner? Have you called and told Gail we would be home early? I can always stop and get some take out?"

_And I can put some poison into your food._

"No take out, baby. I already called Gail and she is already preparing your favorite Coq Au Vin. I thought we could dine alfresco. Does that sound good?"

_You dying sounds good. _

"Oh, Christian, I don't know if I feel up to that but I'll try. This headache is turning into one of my famous migraines, which means I'll be throwing up here shortly, you know how they are,"

_But __you know nothing that is about to come your way. _

"Have you taken any of your migraine medicine? Just hurry and try to get things wrapped up over there, I will be at home waiting for you, and we will see how you feel then. Okay, baby?

_Baby? I would abort your baby._

"Okay, Christian. I'll see you in a while,"

_And __if you are lucky, I won't slit your throat in your sleep tonight._

"See you soon, baby. I love you."

_In addition, I fucking hate your guts._

"I love you, too."

_With all of my heart that you have literally ripped from my chest. _

As soon as their call ended, Ana barely made it to the nearest toilet to empty the contents of her stomach. Wrapping her arms around the toilet, Ana continued to dry heave until the only thing that was coming up was her saliva. Ana had spent all afternoon in an emotional sandstorm, going from agonizing heartbreak to being completely numb, never considering what hearing Christian's voice was going to do her, much less make her feel. Now that she knew, Ana was more determined than ever to listen to that little voice that had screamed in the back of her head- Take the bastard down.

"Ana, honey? Ana was lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear Kate enter the bathroom, or realize that Kate had held her hair up as she was puking her guts out.

"Sawyer said you're going to go home." Katherine's voice was a low whisper, sad and uncertain.

Slowly lifting her head from the toilet seats, cold surface, Ana began to cry, nodding at her best friend.

"Yeah, not for the reason you are probably thinking I am. Kate, this may sound horrible and borderline evil, but I have thought about it all day. I'm going home so I can pretend to be that stupid, fool of a wife that Christian believes me to be. Then I'm going to make him wish he'd never been born."

Helping Ana to her feet, Kate envelops her into a tight hug, wondering whether Ana can emotionally handle walking into that house and lay eyes on her horrible husband.

"Are you sure, Ana? I don't know that you are capable of doing this, how can you look at Christian? Ana, how will you crawl in the bed with him and what about fucking him? You have told me from day one that sick bastard wants to fuck constantly. Why are you taking the chance of catching some disease that you cannot wash off? Ana, this is not a good idea and all I am going to do is worry about you. Please don't do this to yourself."

Katherine is still clutching her friend and kissing her head repeatedly until Ana pulls her head back to breathe.

"Kate, I have to. Ray not only taught me how to fight but also how to be a survivor. I will be a survivor of _The Christian Grey, _not his victim. Christian does not deserve a confrontation that he will try to worm out of, you know how he uses that shrewd business mind and he will try to use it with me to get out of this. Christian deserves to be taken down by whatever means I can find. He has made a complete fool out of me and has robbed me of so much. It's now my time to reciprocate."

"But...What are you going to do? How are you going to go up against the mogul? He's practically surrounded by the Navy fucking Seals and now you know you can't even trust them."

"Kate, I...Just let me figure it out. The man isn't Superman and he does have a weakness, and you know what it is." Kate knew from the look in Ana's tearful eyes that she was determined and it was pointless to continue arguing with her. Letting her go, Kate looked down at the ruined blouse Ana was still wearing. "Let me go get you a clean shirt. Then wash your face and get your makeup bag and make yourself look presentable. Christian can't notice anything different about you."

"I already told him I've got a migraine, so he'll buy the way my eyes look." Kate nodded at Ana, headed to her bedroom for the shirt, and imagined all the ways she could murder her brother-in-law.

Kate followed Anastasia and Luke Sawyer to the SUV, all three of them in a resigned silence. Turning back to Kate before Sawyer helped her in, Ana grabbed her hard and whispered in her best friend's ear.

"I'll text you and let you know what's going on. Kate, don't forget Christian refused for me for to a prenup. I know that I haven't forgotten." The smirk on Ana's face was picture perfect and actually, quite foreboding.

Pulling back from Ana and watching Sawyer help her get in the backseat, Katherine's emerald eyes were twinkling like two stars on a cloudless starry night. She had forgotten about Christian refusing to have Ana sign a prenup. Kate walked inside her home holding Ava's tiny hand with a large smile on her face.

Sawyer pulled out of Kate's driveway and headed in the direction of the Grey home. He knew they had several things to go over before they arrived at the house.

Sighing deeply he asked Ana if she remembered everything she had told Grey. His voice sounded harsher than he intended it to.

"Of course, I do. Do you remember what I told him? I know you have to tell Taylor the same things in your report on the little woman."

Sawyer looked at her through the rear view mirror with an expression of _what the fuck do you think? _He understands her feelings, but was too pissed off at Taylor and Grey to appreciate Ana acting as if he was part of a greater conspiracy.

"Ana, I know that you said we'd go to Escala tomorrow, but you seemed to have forgotten about the plan to spend the weekend on the Grace." Luke watched Ana bang her head on the headrest in frustration.

"Shit. Well, I'm glad you reminded me of that. What do you think would be worse, going along with our plans or pretending to be sick with a migraine and using that as an excuse not to go?"

"If you lie about the migraine and stay at home don't forget you'll have to spend all weekend inside the house with Mr. Grey. If you keep your plans, you'll be around your in-laws and won't have to...Well, you know what I'm saying, Ana." The thought actually made Luke Sawyer feel sick.

Ana was very well aware of what Sawyer was referring to and just imagining having sex with Christian made her physically ill. She had no idea how she would deal with this, but she knew she would have to figure it out and soon. Christian had always respected Ana's refusal to have sex while she was on her period, but it was a ridiculous thought for her to have a period that lasted for days on end. The minute Ana thought of the word 'days', she was immediately repulsed because she had to be honest with herself, the plan of hers was not going to just be a matter of days. Perhaps weeks, but to think she could get enough on Christian in a matter of days was just plain foolish. All of this thinking had really given Ana a headache and was rubbing her forehead.

"I know what you're saying and I agree. Has your boss man already assigned security for the weekend? If Taylor is the only one coming, I may throw myself off the yacht."

"He will be there with Christian; I'll be there for you, and Reynolds and Ryan for Mr. Grey and Dr. Trevelyan."

Ana scoffed at the absurdity of having so many CPO's for four fucking people. "A bit of overkill, eh? How very Christian Grey and so fucking stupid. At this point, I wish someone would kidnap me."

Sawyer just shrugged and cleared his throat, alerting Ana he was about to either give her a lecture or start demanding answers of whatever she had rolling around in that head of hers. Sawyer knew that Ana Grey was too intelligent for her own good.

"Ana, you need to tell me what you're going to do. I know what you said at Mrs. Grey's about Escala, and that's not be a problem as long as it can be done when we are positive of Mr. Grey's whereabouts, but other than that, once you get these files and find out about these women, what do you plan to do them? And don't bullshit me either, since we both know that will only piss me off and that you can't do any of this without me."

Sighing deeply, Ana met his eyes in the rear view mirror. "I want to copy every file from the first contracted submissive to this last one, but Luke, after that I'm not sure. I want enough to have him on a leash, to lead him wherever I want to. I want a reversal of Christian's fortune; I want him to be the idiot who does not know what is about to fucking slam into him. I want revenge, plain and..."

"Ana...Stop. I realize that you _want _all that shit and so would I. Fuck, I even believe you deserve all of that. However, just let me get the files on the subs he has kept since you have been married, show him and then divorce his ass. Hell, all of Seattle knows Mr. Grey did not want you to have a prenup. Just fucking divorce him and take whatever you want from him. There isn't a person you know that wouldn't blame you for wanting all this revenge that's set on your replay in your mind, but doing all the shit you're probably dreaming about is you torturing yourself, and don't you think that Grey has already tortured you long enough?"

Luke Sawyer's voiced is raised louder than Ana had ever heard it and he suddenly punches the steering wheel, startling the shit out of her. Where had his anger and frustration come from Ana wondered as she gazed out the window. The closer they got to the house Ana's nausea increased and her palms began to sweat. She was nearing a full-blown panic attack.

"Luke…I don't know if I can do this." With those whispered words, Ana's eyes fill up with tears, but she rapidly pushes them back. She cannot afford to walk into that house and have her appearances give her away.

"Do you want me to turn around? I can take you somewhere else?" Sawyer's voice was now devoid of anger and he was speaking to Ana as if she was a cornered animal. Several seconds of silence ensued as Ana seemed to be battling some inner conflict.

"No. Take me home. I think I can pull this off; just...Will you be in the big house, Luke?

"I will do my best to be, but you know if Taylor sends me elsewhere that I'll have to go. Ana, you have Mrs. Grey, and like I told you earlier, my loyalties stay with you and that will not change. Just listen to what I am reminding you of-the minute we pull into that driveway, a camera is going to catch us and someone may be monitoring it. Do your fucking best to not look upset or out of the ordinary. Once you are inside, no matter if you are full of murderous rage when Grey tries to hug or kiss you, just endure it, fuck think about Care Bears with sparkles shoot from their ass. Please take this weekend to think about what I said earlier and I will come up with whatever is within my capabilities to help. Just hold your cards to your vest, and do not alter your natural behaviors whatsoever. Remember, that unfortunately, you've got to appear as the same Ana who went to work this morning, not only to Mr. Grey, but also to Taylor, who doesn't miss a fucking thing."

"Luke, do you think Gail knows? I don't think I would be able to live if she does and has been a part of this deception from day one. She's like a mother to me, a woman I love and I just won't be able to stand the shame,"

Anastasia Grey's voice is practically childlike and Sawyer is wondering where she is lost inside her mind. It is obvious that the shame she just mentioned if Gail was also aware of this clusterfuck, is not the shame that is running through her mind. Over the past three years, Sawyer has overheard Ana and Kate refer to something that happened to Ana as a child, but their words were dubious and he was never able to establish what they were hiding. Sawyer had read Anastasia Steele's background check the day he was hired, and it was clean as a whistle and the only thing that stuck out to him was the fact her step-father, Ray Steele got full custody when she was ten-years-old. Other than that odd bit of information, there was nothing that indicated any kind of traumatic event in her childhood.

"No, Ana. I don't believe Gail knows." He quietly replied. Looking back through the rear view mirror, he saw Ana looking out the window, but not seeing a thing.

Sawyer was punching code to the estate's gate and Ana started to smooth her clothes and quickly applied some more lip-gloss. _How will I face Satan?_

"Are you ready, Ana?"

_No, Luke. I am not._

"Yeah, just do...Lets..."

"I am, Ana. Just keep your shit together."

Following his usual and gentlemanly protocol, Sawyer opened Ana's door and helped her out, while whispering very softly, "Walk in and put your shit where you usually do with a smile on your face."

Ana had sometimes wondered what it felt like for a person as they walked to their execution. With each click of her heel that brought her closer to the front door, Ana realized what a condemned person felt like. Holding her head high, Ana kept her eyes on Sawyer's muscular back as he opened the door and allowed her to pass him and enter the house. Seeing no one, Ana placed her purse and briefcase on the same table as she had for the past three years and watched Sawyer head to the security office. Walking further in the house and toward the kitchen, she saw a beaming Gail Taylor waiting for her.

"Good evening, Mrs. Grey. How are you feeling? Mr. Grey said you are unwell." Ana began the migraine routine and was rubbing her temples, all the while searching Gail's eyes for deceit, she found none.

"Yes, it's another migraine. I just feel terrible. How was your day, Gail? Christian said he called and requested dinner a little earlier this evening. I hope you weren't too rushed,"

"I'm sorry you are feeling poorly, dear. Did you take your migraine medication?" _Gail Taylor, always a caregiver._

Sitting at the breakfast bar, Ana merely nodded, still massaging her temples with her eyes closed.

"I'd offer you a glass of wine, but I know you can't mix it with your medicine. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better, Mrs. Grey?"

Ana could not help but smile. "Yes, Gail. You can call me Ana,"

It was at that moment when she felt his presence, although he was not in the kitchen yet. Ana lowered her head and closed her eyes, feeling that if she could not see him then he could not see her. God forbid she let him see the damage he had inflicted upon her. Ana heard his voice before he touched her, she knew he was barefoot since she had not heard him approaching and she knew his touch was going to slay her. Then there it was- the lips of the devil on top of her head and his arm draped across her shoulders. Ana had to swallow the vomit that was creeping up her throat and force herself to keep her body relaxed underneath Christian's touch.

_So this is what it feels like to be touched by evil._

"Are you okay, Anastasia? You look extremely pale and I do not like it one bit. Let me take you upstairs and run you a bath before we eat. Mrs. Taylor, we will be ready to eat in about forty-five minutes."

_Now the evil speaks._

"Certainly, Mr. Grey,"

If only Gail's happy and delighted smile was enough to fix Ana's shattered being. Christian helped Ana off the bar stool; his hand on her elbow was a conflagration that seared her skin to the bone, as he led her up the staircase. Ana could hear him murmuring words to assuage the migraine that she did not even have, but to her ears, Christian's voice was a harrowing scream that she just could not shut off. Ana had not dared to even glance his way, keeping her head tilted toward the wall so she wouldn't even look down to see his beautiful bare feet.

_One that is evil can also pretend quite well._

Christian opened the door to their bedroom and Ana nearly gasped as she saw their marital bed. Her soul seemed to be a paroxysm of torment and she felt the sudden desire to flee from this hell she knew she was trapped in. Ana sat so close to the edge of the bed she was practically hanging off it. She could not bear to remember everything they had done on this bed, that she had done because she loved Christian and she thought he loved her. However, today, with one look at a red Audi and then hearing Luke Sawyer call out the names of five women, five names that were screaming submissive, Anastasia realized the joke was on her. Oh, how disgusted she felt. All of the things she'd done with Christian on this very bed, all of those things she hadn't ever felt comfortable doing, but still took part in because she knew she couldn't ever give Christian what she always feared he'd leave her over-his need to inflict pain on women. Ana made the conscious decision to give Christian what she prayed was _enough _to keep him happy, to placate him enough for him to lose his extreme needs, his need for pain. He had assured her repeatedly she was enough for him, that she satisfied him and had taken away all of his past urges. Ana had pushed all of her insecurities away and was willing to push her limits as far as she possibly could without allowing him to _punish _her, hoping that was more than he would ever need. Now she recognized her insecurity had been a subliminal warning of the truth, she had just chosen to ignore it.

As Ana listened to Christian in their bathroom, she realized something that struck her like a lightning bolt. Why had she always conceded to Christian's whims? Why had she listened to him tell her that she was _enough _to satisfy him despite that he couldn't inflict pain on her? Christian had told her those words so many times these past three years, but it never dawned on her how fucked up they were. Ana allowed a man to tell her, "Sure, you satisfy me sexually to a _point, _if you go along with everything _I need _since you refuse me what I ultimately want." She had been a mother fucking fool.

Christian stood in the doorway of the bathroom and in a quiet, soothing voice, told Ana her bath was ready. Ana knew she had to raise her head and look at him. Ana would not give him a cheap thrill of seeing her head down in a submissive pose; even if she was looking down to avoid facing him. Ripping the band-aid off, Ana stood up and turned to her illegally handsome husband who was staring at her with a worried expression. Just taking in Christian's face, his body, his hands and feet, made Ana feel bloodless and cold, like the cadaver she had become. Taking his outstretched hand and wincing as if the lights were exacerbating her migraine, Ana allowed Christian to lead her into the bathroom where he lowered the lighting.

_I will have to allow this evil bastard to touch me._

"I didn't put any of your favorite Jasmine oil in the water. I was afraid the smell of it would bother you. Let me get you undressed and in the hot water. Remember how my mother told you to try to relax when you had one of your migraines? Hopefully, this bath will relax you some." Christian gave Ana a small smile meant to allay the pain from her migraine.

_The beautiful face and smile of Lucifer, who became Satan after he was cast from heaven._

Ana stared into her husband's face in a state of wonderment; who was this man? He looked like the man she had married on a beautiful May afternoon, however, _who _was he? _Why _had he done all of this? If he did not want her, did not want to be married, did not want to stop a sexual lifestyle that entailed beating women, _why _hadn't he simply divorced her? Was it over money, not having her sign a prenup? On the other hand, was Christian just the kind of person who wanted more when he already had it all?

_Probably, because he feels omnipotent._

Christian was gently caressing Ana's body with a bath sponge as if he were bathing a small child. Ana's eyes were closed as she recollected her hopeful dreams of having Christian's children and remembered how Christian would remonstrate the idea of children. He always promised _one day. _Now Ana was silently promising _one day. _Ana could only endure so much and having his traitorous touch on her skin, his eyes scanning her naked body, she began to panic. Of course, she could not let Christian see that, so Ana had to saturate her mind with one of her many happy places. She envisioned herself as a girl of twelve, two years after Ray rescued her from Carla and her boyfriend, the man who had horribly raped and beaten Ana. That twelve-year-old girl who was finally coming out of her fractured mind and was not only her father's baby girl, but also the tough-minded young woman Ray taught her to be. Immersing herself in memories of fishing with Ray, Ray teaching her how to shoot straight, taking her to church, and the simple, quiet moments they shared, Anastasia nearly started crying, and in that place everyone has in the back of his or her mind, that place where they still feel like a child, Ana wanted her daddy.

Ana became vaguely aware that Christian had been humming as he ran the water over her body, but it when he began to speak; she realized she would have to engage in conversation with him.

"Don't you agree, Anastasia? I am sure they will both understand if we cancel our plans, especially knowing how ill you are. My mother will probably demand that you go back and see the neurologist since this migraine is so intense,"

"Are you talking about canceling our weekend on the Grace with your mother and father? My head hurts so much that I zoned out for a minute."

_And I had to endure your disgusting hands on me._

"Yes, baby. You know that there have been times where you have been practically hung over from these damn migraines for days after they are gone. I know you will not feel like being out on the boat all weekend and the sun glaring off the water will only make your eyes hurt again. Give me your hand, I'll help you out and dry you off,"

Then _you can fuck off._

"True, but Christian your father has been looking forward to this for a month and you did promise that we'd drop anchor and the two of you would do some fishing. He will be so disappointed if we bail at the last minute. I bet he's already got his gear packed up."

_Talk him out of canceling, Ana. Do it. _

"No, Anastasia, they will understand completely and I'll call them after I've put you to bed. I'll bring your dinner up here on a tray," This

_This__ fucker will not let it go._

"How about this idea, Christian. Why don't you and your father go fishing this weekend and invite Elliot? I'm sure he'd jump at the chance to get away because I'm positive Kate's hormones have turned her into a gigantic bitch that's making his life hell."

_Take the bait...And it's not really a lie. Kate is driving Elliot insane._

Christian smiled when he started to dry her off between her legs. It was an unexpected touch on his part, since Ana had been too busy trying to think of ways to get him the fuck away for the weekend, but when he made contact with that part of her body, Ana slightly jumped. Christian looked up at her wearing a lascivious grin, thinking that Ana jumped from arousal, when it was actually from surprise that quickly dissolved into disgust.

_Fucker._

"Mrs. Grey, even with a migraine my good girl can get excited."

_I have only started to get excited__ thinking of your demise._

"Christian, hush up. You are talking too loudly and it is killing my head. Now, what do you think of my idea about you all going fishing?"

_If he does not agree to this, I really am going _

Christian has Ana wrapped in her robe and heads towards their bed. He thinks her eyes are closed because of the bedside lamp, but it is really because of the dread in Ana's stomach as she thinks about lying in their marital bed that was never sacred, but was one big lie. Christian tucked her in and sat on the edge of the bed gazing at her face and softly stroking her hair. Daring to peer into his eyes Ana attempted to decipher the emotion she saw in them, even their gray seemed lighter. Where Ana had always believed she saw devotion and love, she realized now it was probably pity. She was sure Christian saw her refusal to be hurt as a weakness, a weakness; he probably pitied her for having. He dimmed the bedside lamp, kissed her on the forehead and went to go get her dinner. Ana looked at her tablet to send off a quick email to Kate about Elliot going fishing with Christian and Carrick, but she knew that Christian would be back shortly and she couldn't take the chance. She was secretly cursing herself because she had left her phone inside her purse, both of which remained on the entryway table.

Before she even finished thinking of a way to let Sawyer know to bring up her purse and phone, Christian had returned, holding a tray with her favorite meal. Ana knew she was going to have to throw him a thankful smile and she could only pray that it appeared sincere.

"Here's your favorite, baby. Mind the duvet; I want to set the tray down properly so your food doesn't spill."

_Oh, __Christian. Why must you pretend?_

"I thought about your idea of us guys going fishing for the weekend and it does sounds appealing. I'll call dad and let them know what's going on and our change of plans, then I'll call Elliot and see if he wants to come too."

_Thank God._

"Please apologize to your parents for me. I just feel terrible about this and having everyone disappointed in me."

_Oh, no. I just thought of losing Carrick and Grace. Grace. _

"Baby, no one is going to be disappointed because you've got one of your fucking migraines. Shit, you know my mom has thought of everything to help you, even having you seen by the best neurologist in Seattle. When I call and tell them, my mother will probably be over here within half an hour to check on you,"

_If I keep thinking about Grace no longer being in my life I am going to start to cry._

Ana chooses to not respond and attempts to eat, but her already sickened stomach is rebelling on her. Knowing Christian will prod her to eat a little bit more, Ana forces small bites of food down her throat by taking big gulps of water. She listens to Christian's one-sided conversations with Carrick and Elliot, both of whom eagerly accept his invitation and they make plans to leave before sunrise.

_Good, I will be asleep when he leaves._

Instead of leaving the room while Ana is eating, Christian lays across the bed, laying his head on an arm bent at the elbow. Ana catches him staring at her quite intently.

"You never told me about what you had to wrap up at work and those decisions you had to make. Anything I need to be aware of?"

_More meaningless, chitchat bullshit._

Ana's mind ceases with his question as she realizes this could be an opportunity to throw a wrench in his seemingly well thought out double life. She is actually quite surprised that her thoughts are so clear and that this idea just hit her. She is inwardly beaming.

"I don't much feel like talking, but yes, I made some decisions to adjust some things and handled it pretty quickly, well, as quickly as someone with a brain numbing migraine can. The changes will start on Monday since my entire department heads responded quickly to the interdepartmental email I sent out. I believe it was a good decision and will work well for everyone involved. But I'm sure there will be one or two who may have trouble adjusting to the changes."

_When he hears this, he is going to shit. _

"You have piqued my curiosity, Mrs. Grey. Tell me all about what my beautiful and smart CEO did today. Sounds like you made some solid and concise decisions, I hope they weren't about any serious problem at GP that you never told me about?"

Christian had raised one of his eyebrows in a questioning manner and Ana internally scoffed at him. As if he had a say in anything that occurred at Grey Publishing. He had given that company to her and it was all in her name. She owned it lock, stock, and barrel.

"Oh, my decision wasn't based on a serious problem at GP. It was really about circumventing some things in a practical way. You know, a way to disrupt or hinder some problematic behavior. I felt like I needed to rattle some cages to catch people's attention."

_Ask me what I changed, Grey. Well, I have not changed them yet, but I am come Monday._

"So, tell me what you did Anastasia. I want to see if I can learn anything from you." Christian looked too amused by his own words, even cocky. Ana decided to play along with him, indulge him with some flirting, but reminding herself to appear as if she does not feel well. She then pushes her tray away and Christian throws her a look of disapproval.

"I ate all I could stomach, Mr. Grey. You are lucky I have not already hurled on you. And what could little ol' Anastasia Rose Grey learn from the master of the universe, Christian Grey?" Ana even threw in her little giggle Christian always claimed to adore and he returned it with a beaming smile that threw Ana off kilter a bit. Just looking at his face, that beautiful smile and gorgeous gray eyes, Ana became heart breathtakingly aware of the love she has for this man and she could not comprehend how she would ever get over it. Ana had to tear her gaze away from his face as she felt thousands of tears rushing toward her eyes.

While his intoxicating grin remained firmly on his lips, Christian began to rub Ana's feet.

"Oh, Anastasia. We both know I've taught you a lot."

His virile reply quickly pushed Ana's tears away in disgust. Yes, he had taught her things. Some she had to begrudgingly admit to enjoying, others that left her in the shower scrubbing away feelings of abhorrence and humiliation.

_Fuck you, Christian Grey._

"Now, back to business. What's going on down there that required shaking things up?"

_Nothing at GP needs shaking up, Mr. Grey._

"After leaving my usual Friday department head meeting, you know the one I have at noon? Well, anyway, I believe I told you I was irritated with a few people and ended it at twelve-fifteen. So, I spent a great while thinking about my schedule and those of each department, and I've changed my two-hour meetings that I have at noon in a much more efficient one hour meeting that I'll oversee on Tuesday's and Thursday's. That idea seemed appropriate; consolidate a few departments for meetings that probably will not even last an hour anyway. It will also free up everyone's lunchtime, including mine, Mr. Grey. Meaning we can squeeze in some alone time if you know what I mean?"

_Oh, Mr. Grey, keep wearing your poker face and nod thoughtfully at my words, but I just SAW something flicker in those gray eyes of yours. Bingo._

"That sounds like a solid plan and good time management. What kind of feedback did you get from the department heads? I'm sure they were all pleased."

_However, I bet you are not…_

"Yes, they were. Everyone was pleased and obviously loved I had made the changes. Nevertheless, as I said, I am sure there are a few out there who will not find my unexpected plan very appealing. However, I am the boss. So like you told me, they'll just have to live with it."

_Oh, to be one of the firing neurons in your brain right now Christian. _

"Very true, Ana. Very true. And I support every decision you make at GP, especially ones that will make your life easier."

_The way I support those that make your life more difficult._

"Christian bends down and kisses both of Ana's feet and stands up. "I'll take your tray downstairs now. Do you want anything else from the kitchen? I will bring up some water; you know the doctor said staying hydrated was one way to help you with these migraines. Can I bring you anything else up to you?"

_Sawyer's gun so I can shoot you with it. _

"The water sounds wonderful, make it sparkling please. And if you wouldn't mind, would you bring me my briefcase and purse? They're where I always leave them on the entryway table."

"Anastasia, you are not going to work while you can barely keep your eyes open. So I will not bring you your briefcase. Absolutely not."

_Go fuck yourself, Grey._

"Would you at least bring me my purse? I was supposed to text Kate to tell her how I am feeling and I haven't, which means she has blown up my phone with texts. Pretty, please?" Ana even poked out her bottom lip as an extra measure. Christian leaned down to kiss her forehead and murmured, "How can I tell that precious face no? I'll be right back, baby."

_Alternatively, you could trip on the stairs and break your neck._

"Thank you, sweetie."

The second Christian closed their bedroom door; Ana could not help from having a full-blown giggle fit from imagining how many things are running through her husband's head now. He was surely in a full-blown panic attack and probably had no hair left. Ana was laughing so hard she had to bury her face in her pillow to keep anyone from hearing her. Where she'd pulled that story from was even beyond her, but she was convinced of a God now. Despite her laughter, Ana quickly sobered up and looked around their bedroom, full of depression. Ana had done so much work and put so much thought into every piece of furniture in the room, the color of the curtains, the fucking carpet. All to create a safe haven for her and her husband. The man she comforted at night when he woke up screaming from one of his nightmares, and held in her arms when he recounted the horrific early years of his life. Ana was coming to believe that the worst part of loving someone with deep-rooted issues is that they somehow attempt to make you responsible for them. If Christian was insecure, full of self-hatred, and completely self-destructive, why did he cause Ana to feel that, she was supposed to make him better by changing who she was. What the fuck? Yeah. Wow. Whatever.

All of this time was nothing more than a waste of her love, compassion, and determination to always comfort Christian. Ana had given Christian everything she'd had and not only had he not appreciated it, he threw it back in her face as if it disgusted him. Christian has used her body as a vessel and an afterthought, and abused her trust and fidelity that she had placed in him. Simply put, he had made her a fool, she looked like a fool, he thought of her as a fool, and now she felt like a fool.

Perhaps Sawyer and Kate were right when they advised her to just walk away and not do what she was doing. Even Ana admitted by being here proved her to be a masochist. Why the fuck was she here? Letting that horrible piece of shit believe that she was still his goddamn idiot of a wife. Had she always been this stupid? Is that why he married her? Jesus Christ, why had he married her? Telling her own self-abuse to fuck off, Ana got up and put on her pajamas, the ugly flannel ones that Kate had bought her to wear when she was sick and went to wash her face. Ana looked into her vanity mirror searching her face for the changed woman she now was, but only saw the face of the twenty-four year old woman who looked into this very same mirror this morning, this morning when she left for work in the warm belief she had the love of her beloved husband. Ana just could not comprehend the fact that she was now so different on the inside but appeared the same on the outside. Her face should prove how her heart was sliced to shreds in Kate's living room. A heart Christian had severed in such a way that only her right atrium remained, barely pushing enough spurts of blood into her body to keep her alive.

By the time Christian returned, Ana was already back in the bed and nearly asleep. Once her head was clear from the fog of slumber, Ana looked at the bedside clock and realized her husband had been gone for quite awhile.

_Hmm..._

"Did I wake you up, baby? I am sorry, I had a few things to go over with security and I didn't realize where the time had gone. Here's your water and purse, baby." Christian turned off the overhead lighting and the only light was coming from the bathroom, dimly lighting their bedroom. When he spoke to Ana it was barely in a whisper and as Christian perched himself beside her on the edge of the bed, Ana noticed several acute changes about him.

_What is this?_

Christian's posture had changed; it appeared softer, for lack of a better word. His expression was...Compunctious. Were those gray eyes full of self-reproach? Christian gripped both of Ana's hands in his as he studied every aspect of her face, pondering her blue eyes until he looked down to the floor. Ana began to feel very uneasy. This was not the Christian Gray who had left their bedroom an hour ago. This was a side of Christian she knew those few months before their marriage. Ana could not help but wonder if everything she had said made Christian suspect that Ana knew something he had not wanted her to know. Is that why he is behaving this way? In addition, what had he been doing in the past hour? The entire atmosphere in the room was nerve-wracking.

_Christian?_

Christian eventually looked back at his wife, gray eyes to blue. Ana was trying to hold her suspicion at bay as best she could as well as attempt to decipher whatever his expression and eyes were emitting. Refusing to allow her distrust of him turn into curiosity, Ana kept quiet and watched Christian do whatever in the fuck Christian was doing. His unspoken emotions were bouncing throughout the room and Ana could only wonder what they were doing inside his head. There was really no sense for her to try to figure him out since she thought she knew him, only to be wrong.

_Oh, how wrong I was._

Maybe it was that Ana began to rapidly blink as she watched his face, or just the fact that he'd suddenly found his voice underneath some hidden pain that was buried within a briar patch, but Ana saw his mouth moving and heard the soft words he was saying.

_Are you about to confess?_

"Anastasia, there is something that I… that I have wanted to… fuck!" Christian gripped her hands a bit harder in what was seemingly frustration. Ana was holding her breath and at this point, her expression had gone blank. She was so confounded by all of this that she couldn't consider which mask of emotion she should be wearing, but she did realize that before today's revelations, she would have prodded him with questions trying to figure out what was going on. Therefore, that is what she decided to do.

"Christian? What is the matter? Maybe it's because I've just woken up, but I am confused here. What is it? You can tell me. You know you can trust me, Christian."

_God damn you, fucking say it!_

"Ana, please look at me."

_Oh, you want to see my destruction in your eyes, do you?_

"I am, Christian. What's wrong, sweetie? You're scaring me."

Ana's husband was looking deeply into her eyes, as if he was trying to bore a glimpse into her soul, his own gray eyes were a shadow in the darkened bedroom, yet Ana could feel Christian scrutinizing her face.

"I'm sorry if I'm scaring you, I'm not trying to and there isn't a reason for you to be scared. There is just something I have had on my mind for a very long while now and I want to tell you. I think I have finally found the courage to tell you. For some fucking reason, I've found the courage to say this now, tonight."

_I am still waiting…_

Ana knew it was her time to pretend that she was reassuring him, so she gave Christian's hands a gentle squeeze. "Just tell me, Christian." Her voice, not more than a whisper.

"Anastasia, you know how I used to...how I...Shit, why is this so fucking hard to get out?"

"Just say it."

_You pussy._

In a very unlike Christian Grey way, Christian took a deep breath that he rapidly exhaled and nodded at Ana. She thought she felt fear radiating off his body.

"You're right. I'll just tell you." Yet, he kept sitting there without saying a fucking word, staring at Ana as if she was an unsolvable Algebra problem.

_Oh, this is fucking ridiculous. Whatever this shit it, whether it is your guilty confession or more bullshit, just say it!_

Then, in the middle of her own inner monologue, Ana heard what Christian was trying to gather his balls to tell her and when they registered within her brain, she froze in complete disbelief.

"Anastasia, I've been thinking about this for a while now, because I know that I'm ready. I have been terrified to tell you, but I feel that tonight is the perfect moment. Anastasia, I want us to start trying to have a baby."

A/N

I apologize that it took a bit longer than usual for me to post this. It has been complete for several days, but I never had the time to obsessively edit it. I am sure there are still a trillion mistakes; just do not pay attention to them. I promise the next chapter will be up by week's end since I have already written a lot for it.


	14. Chapter 14

All characters and rights to the story of FsoG belong to E. L. James

_**Yes, I know. Now I know. Yes, I know. I know.**_

_**April 4**__**th**__**, 2015**_

_I am having a meltdown._

_The kind you have in your head that no one else knows about._

_I have to smile and act normal to my husband while the inside of my head is nothing but my sanity melting. _

_I'm forced to feel adequate and sure, like I did when I was a small girl, but trying to appear positive and optimistic as my body shakes from a spirit breaking crisis. _

_My internal struggle goes straight to the basics of my fuckedupness._

_My deep seeded dislike of self, my doubts, and fears._

_There is a battle inside my mind to do what I want and refusing to do what he wants me to._

_All of these feelings and thoughts are the deepest and strongest weeds in the garden that is my soul._

_I realize this, but avoid looking at it, avoiding its every angle._

_If I do look at those thoughts and feelings, they will consume me and leave me wanting like an unrequited love._

_Admitting this to myself makes me ashamed because it is extremely hard to hear my inner and true self say the words that proclaim the reality of everything I hide every day._

_The universe usually gives me what I need to make it through and carry on. _

_It reminds me where to go whenever I need strength to carry on, which is where I learned how to be me._

_It has to prompt me to dust off the good parts of myself and throw away the rest._

_Sometimes I have to be reminded to pick life's flowers and to leave the weeds behind. _

_That is when I remember verbatim something my father wrote to me when I was ten-years-old._

"_Your optimism shows courage. This courage will keep you afloat your entire life. Remember that courage is not a random fluke, but a gift from a power higher than yourself that loves you and blesses you with an opportunity to become an even better version of yourself. This higher power of love has allowed you to stay the same compassionate and open-minded little girl you have always been. Ana, you have accepted everyone else in the world and it is now time to accept yourself."_

_I consider Ray's words as a flower in my life. _

_A flower that I am placing in a vase so that I can see it every day. _

Ana's body suddenly jolted her awake from a sleep that she had not intended to take. Looking at the clock on her bedside table, she saw it was barely two in the morning. Whatever it was that she'd been dreaming lingered in the back of her mind, but the precise words evaded her. Looking over at her sleeping husband, Anastasia remembered what the day would bring.

Jason Taylor had given Sawyer the entire weekend off since the Greys plans had changed and Ana would not require a CPO. Taylor was bringing Reynolds and Ryan along to be CPO's for Carrick and Elliot Grey, a decision that Luke Sawyer realized weighed heavily in his favor. Both men, just like Taylor, had been a part of Grey's security team since day one, and if they were away from the Grey home, Sawyer's job had just been made a hell of a lot easier. It was not until Sawyer was informed that the newest member to the security team, a female named Prescott would be minding the home's CCTV cameras that Sawyer knew God was on Ana Grey's side. On top of all that, Gail Taylor was off on the weekend. If this medley of good fortune was not proof of Christ Almighty, Sawyer had no clue what else it could be.

Ana quietly crept out of the bed, headed straight to the bathroom sometime around three a.m., and sent the text Sawyer had been expecting for hours. Anastasia Grey was not famous for her patience.

_~They've given us perfect opportunity &amp; Gail is off. Tomorrow after they leave. ~_

_~R U expecting Dr. Trevelyan to drop by and check on U? ~_

_~No-Christian said that after our plans had changed she made a spa day with her evil best friend, Mrs. Lincoln~_

_~I'll let T. know you're spending the day with Mrs. Grey since you still don't feel well &amp; don't want to be alone &amp; that I'll b with you~_

_~K. I'll let Kate know in am. Plans 4 tomorrow? ~_

_~I'll handle that. Immediately after they leave b ready. Delete these texts &amp; any others between us~_

Sawyer was used to making concise and detailed plans on very little sleep and went straight to working out his options for executing this scheme Ana Grey demanded they take care of. Since Taylor would inform Grey about Ana heading out to Kate Grey's, they wouldn't have to worry about having the CCTV cameras catching them leave the house. Sawyer had no qualms on how to handle the CCTV at the penthouse, so that was the least of his worries. Right after Taylor gave him the weekend off, Sawyer went straight to his iPad to the app Barney downloaded o the iPads of each security team member. It was a way to cut off, rewind, and then restart any security cameras and devices, and then stamping the footage with the appropriate date and time, whatever that should be. Taking out a blank Memorex CD/DVD disk, he downloaded the app that he would use tomorrow at Escala, thinking how ironic it was that Grey had asked Barney to come up with something like this and now it was being used against him.

Getting rid of the biggest problem he was going to have to deal with, Sawyer became concerned of an unlikely, but still bad turn of events in which Taylor and Grey would head over to Escala, and in return, see the SUV Sawyer drove parked in the garage. That would not work at all, so Sawyer went straight to the website of Enterprise and reserved a car to drive to Escala. That would ensure that if the worst were to occur, that neither Taylor nor Grey would have a heads up.

Sawyer was also going to keep the elevator CCTV camera on live feed that he could watch while Ana was off doing whatever it was Ana was hell-bent on doing. Sawyer knew watching the elevator camera gave him the advantage of time. If anyone else punched in the code to the penthouse, he would immediately see them and would have enough time to get to Ana and have her put everything back in order, even if she was not finished with her quest, and lead her out via the service elevator. He wanted them in and out within thirty minutes, so he hoped Ana Grey was adept and quick getting whatever it is that she wanted. Sawyer's plan was to have Ana at Katherine Grey's home within 2 hours of leaving the house on the Sound, with all the shit she wanted.

Sawyer was dressed and ready to go at five o'clock in the morning. Despite that his in-house apartment was on the home's third floor, Sawyer could hear Grey's movements on the floor below, and knew it would not be too long until they left. Once he heard Ryan and Reynolds leave their respective quarters, Sawyer placed his Glock into the back of his blue jeans. Sawyer knew he had to dress casually in jeans and a button down so he would not stand out at Escala in his usual formal attire that Grey made the security members wear. If anyone saw him dressed that way, they would automatically recognize him, which was the last thing he needed.

By five-thirty, Sawyer saw two vehicles leaving through the front gate and before he could text Ana to ask if she was ready, his cell alerted him to an incoming text from her. He was already laughing at her before he read the text.

~_I'm sitting in the bedroom WAITING on your ass! ~ _That was SO Ana.

~_Well keep sitting on UR ass. I have to go talk to Prescott 1__st__. ~_

Sawyer made his way down to the security office to find that it was empty. There was no sign of Prescott anywhere and Luke Sawyer saw this as both incompetence and a break in security protocol, but also as another sign of divine intervention. He was not going to have to explain why Ana Grey had to go see Kate Grey when it was not even six in the morning. Before texting Ana to bring her ass downstairs, he looked around for Prescott in a few more places. Sawyer could only think she was in the bathroom, which irritated him thoroughly knowing that someone was supposed to be watching the cameras at all times. However, he decided to just get Ana and get the hell out of there. As Sawyer was pulling out his cell to text Ana to head downstairs, he heard a noise and turning to his left, he saw Ana staring at him with her hands on her hips, head cocked to the side and holding a rather large black bag. He assumed that's where she was going to throw all of the shit she wanted into. Sawyer nearly laughed at her as he led her toward the front door and whispered for her to be quiet and walk quickly. Ana jumped in the SUV's back seat, pumped up on the adrenaline of fear and excitement. Her excitement puzzled her and had left her awake most of the night. Why would she be excited to find damning evidence against her husband? Ana had feigned sleep all night looking at her husband's handsome face and taking in the scent of his body. She loved him, deeply and completely, but was bitterly aware that she loved another man, not the one he had proven himself to be. This man was a stranger to her, a complex and confounding man who had taken her stupid and blind hand and led her into hell. Well into the morning, Ana watched Christian sleep with a hand over her mouth to quiet the sound of her tears.

Ana had a visceral fear of what all she would discover and have to endure at Escala. It was a cold and freezing fear, akin to sitting in a bathtub until the water has gone chillingly cold, but you have failed to notice. A fear that was rattling in her bones and causing her body to tremble. A fear that screams for you to run like hell, yet you remain toe to toe with the one that is causing your fear. But that fear had to be pushed away for now, Ana had set her mind on completing this task, no matter what Kate or Sawyer may think about it. She refused to be that ten-year-old child who was helpless and watched the guilty man who had terribly hurt her walk away without a scratch on him. If all of this proved to be exactly the way it looked, Christian was not going to walk away without a scratch on him.

Ana decided to keep mum about Christian's moment of temporary insanity that he'd had last night. Thankfully, Christian took the utter disgust in her eyes as an emotion of unexpected surprise. Well, true she was surprised, but not in a good way. She was outraged and nearly came off the bed swinging. Ana knew it was a game; she just could not put together what kind of game he was playing. At first, Ana was afraid that she had thrown too much out about Grey Publishing or maybe sounded a bit too giddy over the fact that she was throwing a wrench in his double life, but after going over their conversation for the tenth time, she decided that she had not given anything away. Ana pretended to feeling too poorly to act overly happy by his words, but then shot him down the same way he had been doing her for a long time. Too busy. CEO. Too young. Want to do and see so much. Maybe in the future. Ana immediately noticed how _relief _flooded into Christian's eyes, but it was fleeting and it was nauseating to watch as he struggled to morph his expression into one of disappointment. Whatever he was trying to pull over on her with that little stunt would probably be forever unknown. But honestly, Ana did not give a fuck. All of her attention was centered on the task before her.

While she looked out the window wondering what Kate and Sawyer would say if she told them about Christian and his made up story of wanting a child, Ana noticed that Sawyer wasn't headed in the direction of downtown Seattle and she moved in between the two front seats. "Where are we going? Don't tell me you've pussed out on me, Sawyer?"

Scowling at her, Luke nodded his head to the passenger seat where he had printed out the rental car's reservation.

"We're renting a car? Should I ask why?"

"Yes and no."

Ana rolled her eyes and flopped into her seat in the back. Looking down at her phone to check on the time, she saw it was much too early to let Kate know what they were doing and that they would be at her place afterward. Then she did what she had done more than a dozen times, pulled out the scrap of paper with the safe's combination where Christian kept his "insurance photos" as well as the one for the file cabinet. Ana was praying to God that her husband had not moved those fucking files. She had no idea what she would do if that was the case, other than stand in his old office and scream bloody murder.

In a matter of minutes, Sawyer was inside Enterprise taking care of the rental car business. He came out carrying the keys to an older model red Camry. This time Ana sat up front with him and once they drove off Ana could not help but giggle at him.

"I'm sure a car like this must be slumming it for you, Sawyer."

"Not quite, Ana. My first car was my father's first car. So you can imagine how fucking fun it was picking up your date in that piece of shit." His sardonic reply caused Ana to laugh loudly and even Sawyer had a smile on his face.

"My first car was one my dad got me, a Beetle. Naturally, Mr. Control Freak took one look at it and just took it away from me and sold it."

"Why'd you let him?"

Such a simple question that threw Ana into deep contemplation. Why had she let Christian do that?

Ana sighed deeply, shaking her head. "I honestly can't say why."

Sawyer made no reply and the two sat in a comfortable silence as he drove them into the heart of the city. Ana was quietly going over everything she wanted, information she believed that she deserved to possess. No matter what it meant or how it could possibly break her, she deserved to know.

"So tell me something, Sawyer. What are we going to do once we get in the penthouse?"

"Well, I left my poster board at home, Ana, so I can't draw you a picture. But this is very simple; I'm going to do what I need to and you're going to go do whatever it is you feel like you have to."

"Draw it out for me? Funny...ha...ha...So I don't need to do anything to help you?"

Sawyer knew that Ana was truly sincere when she asked him that and that is what made him laugh all the louder.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I have the most important job to do; all you have to do is pray you don't end up with a paper jam. But what I am about to tell you isn't anything to be fucked around with. We are not going to spend more than thirty minutes in there. So hurry up and do what you need and do it very fast. All right, Ana? I am so not fucking around when I say that."

Rolling her eyes at him since he is speaking to her as if she is a child, Ana tartly replies, "Sawyer, has anyone ever told you how sexy you are when you're being so bossy?"

Sawyer's eyes slid sideways to her., knowing she is being a stubborn little bitch. "No."

Ana laughed loudly. "That's because you're NOT!"

"Whatever, smart ass. We are going to the elevator in the garage. Just please, Ana, please. Do not take your sweet ass time, just find the shit you are dying to get and shove it in your little black bag. Anything else will only impede the process and I'm not in the mood to have a code Red security blow up as I watch Taylor, Grey, or any other security team member enter that god damn elevator!"

"Okay, Jesus. Take a fucking Valium. I am so fucking nervous, Luke. What if my fingers don't want to cooperate once I am in there? All I can imagine is every worst scenario that could happen and what it..."

"Well, Ana, aren't you the optimist of 2015? Now take some deep fucking breaths or shit because we're one red light away."

A shiver ran all the way down her spine and Ana could not believe how calm and relaxed Sawyer sounded and looked. In addition, hell, why was she so nervous? What if they got caught? She could still get a divorce and take half of everything Christian Grey ever thought of owning. To hell with being nervous, she could walk into Escala and go up to the penthouse without giving a fuck who saw her, after all she had lived there and was Mrs. Christian Grey. It is not as if anyone would wonder why some strange woman entered the elevator and put in the code to go to the penthouse.

As they entered the building's underground garage Sawyer looked at Ana sympathetically. He was 99.9% positive they were not going to have a happy fun time in that apartment and he felt for Ana. He also sure as fuck did not want her to go bat shit hysterical on him again leaving him to carry her out of there. Now, that would draw unwanted attention. Sawyer parked far away from Grey's assigned spaces in a darkened corner. He heard Ana let out a deep sigh.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Ana looked at him as if he were nuts. "Are you serious? Jesus Christ, Sawyer. Let me get my phone and bag."

"Your phone?"

"Duh. In case, I see something that I want to take a picture of, dumb ass. Now, grab your balls and let's go."

Sawyer was still laughing as they walked through the garage and straight to the elevator. When the door opened, the two looked at one another for an instant and Ana stepped in first.

"Just do what I said. Do not worry about fucking cameras or being caught. Just do a smash, grab, and we will get the hell out of dodge. And, Ana, everything is going to be alright." Sawyer's voice had softened, and while Ana heard the sympathy in his words, they were absent of pity and it made her want to cry.

"Life comes at you like a freight train doesn't it, Luke?" Ana watched as he simply nodded and she had a sudden need to be in his arms or to wrap her arms around him. At that very moment, Ana needed something, although she was not sure what it was.

Before she knew it, they had reached the penthouse and after what seemed like an eternity, the doors slid open. Ana slowly took in her surroundings and then quickly realized that Sawyer had disappeared. Despite the fact that he had told her to head her ass straight into the office, Ana's feet were frozen in the foyer as memories overwhelmed her. Suddenly her reverie was broken when she heard Sawyer's loud and booming voice.

"Hurry the fuck up!"

Ana snapped to reality and made a mad dash for Christian's office. Swinging the door open, Ana was hit by the room's familiar smell and looked at how everything had remained the same since the last time she was in here. Hurriedly, Ana made her way to the silver filing cabinet where her husband had once led her too and showed her where he kept his files on each of his subs. Pulling the piece of paper with the combination to that particular drawer, Ana punched it in with steady and adept fingers. Pulling back on the drawers handle, it opened immediately and Ana felt quite pleased with herself. Digging all the way to the back of the drawer, her eyes landed on what she had come for; those familiar folders with a last name typed on each tab. Ana reached in and grabbed them all, which, of course, were in numerical order. Laying the stack on Christian's desk, Ana grabbed the very last folder labeled _Sams_, which happened to be the last name on her proscribed visitors list. Ana's knees buckled from underneath her and she nearly vomited on the floor. There was no longer a reason to doubt anything now and as her hands began to shake, Ana inhaled a deep breath.

Ana had intended on making copies of these fucked up files, but her mind suddenly disassociated itself from her body and she started doing things mechanically. Picking up the bag she had brought, she tossed all of Christian's files into it, kicked the cabinet drawer shut, and then wiped the handle down to remove her fingerprints. Fuck copies, she was taking it all. Striding over to the safe, she pulled out its combination and once it opened, Ana reached in and grabbed every single "insurance photo" inside of it. While she had initially planned to scan a copy of each picture, Ana no longer gave a fuck as she threw every original into her bag, and as she did before, closed the safe and used her shirt to wipe off her fingerprints. Ana walked out of Christian's office without looking back and shut the door behind her. Halfway across the massive living room area, Ana's eyes caught the staircase and she thought about the red room that was up there. Her thoughts were scattered and her body was moving on instinct since her mind had seemingly left the building, but Ana was aware that Christian had just been here yesterday, which had been a Friday, and with it being the weekend there was no way the cleaning crew he had hired had been here yet.

Ana ran toward the stairs, dashed up to the second floor, and hauled ass to the door of Christian's den of iniquity. Grasping onto the doorknob she turned it despite assuming it would be locked. By some miracle,

it wasn't. Ana slowly opened the door and reached in with her hand to turn on the light before she went in the room. Ana was three steps inside the room and gasped loudly. Evidence from yesterday's debauchery was everywhere. Christian had left every little toy and implement of pain lying all over the floor. The bed's read leather covering was off and in a heap in a corner. When her eyes landed on a discarded condom, Ana bent over in agony and began to weep. Standing upright by the grace of God, she went to the trashcan and found four used condoms inside of it. It was at this point that her mind slammed back into place and she gathered control of her senses. Sardonically, Ana thought that Christian had done some hardcore fucking yesterday in only two hours and from out of the blue, the otherwise kind and considerate Anastasia Steele Grey wished her husband would die. Reaching into her back pocket, she grabbed her phone, opened up the camera, and started taking pictures of everything in sight. After she had a shitload of damning photos, she turned the phone's video recorder on and walked around filming the room as well. Her despairing nausea slammed into her in waves and she knew she could not hold it any longer. Rushing to the trashcan that was filled to the brim with her husband's DNA, Ana threw up repeatedly until she had nothing left inside; she realized she had also thrown up her soul. Bent over with her hands on her knees, Ana never heard Sawyer enter the room and was not aware of his presence until she heard someone whisper, "Holy fuck!"

Luke Sawyer had seen many things in his life but when he walked into the room in search of Ana, he froze in his tracks. Not because it was a room built for BDSM, but for the arrogant way Christian Grey had left it. It was indisputable proof that the fucking bastard actually _did not give a fuck_ who discovered this and realized what Grey was really about. It took Sawyer several seconds before he took notice of Ana who was hunched over a trash can full of her vomit and her husband's used condoms. He gently took Ana by the shoulders, led her out of the room, and shut the door behind them without uttering a syllable. Halfway down the stairs, Ana laid her head on his arm and Sawyer had an overwhelming desire to beat the ever-loving fuck out of Christian Grey. He had no logical understanding why Grey had been doing this knowing what a wonderful and loving woman his wife is and was taking the chance that she'd walk into this apartment and discover that room in that state. Ana was strong but fragile, intelligent but naive and not a single malevolent bone resided in her body. How Grey could even contemplate cheating on her was an unbelievable concept to him, and now, even more so than before, Luke Sawyer was dedicated to protecting and standing by Ana.

Sawyer grabbed the bag Ana brought along and led her by the hand to the elevator in total silence. To be honest, what was there to say? To waste his breath and tell Ana everything would be okay? He was not going to insult her intelligence by doing so. Sawyer was sure of three things; He would go to any lengths to pay Grey back in spades, that he was going to do everything to help Ana through this, and the last being that he needed to get to Katherine Grey's house ASAP. Sawyer held Ana's hand as the elevator descended and for the first time he realized how small it felt in his large one. He'd always been aware of what a small and petite woman Ana was compared to his near six-foot-four frame, but standing this close to her now, she felt like a delicate fairy that he needed to shield from the world and as Sawyer read her body language, Ana seemed to want that kind of protection. Her head remained on his upper arm and she was using his body to hold her up.

The pair made their way through the parking garage and Sawyer helped Ana in the car and tossed the black bag in the back of the car. Before he started the Camry, Ana handed him her cell phone with a shaking hand. Sawyer just took it without needing to ask why she wanted him to have it. He had seen it in her hand inside that room and knew what she was using it for. Yesterday he felt and even told her she was only torturing herself by doing this, but now he admitted how wrong he had been. Sawyer knew without a doubt he would do anything for her, as well as use whatever it was that Ana had collected in her husband's office, never resting until someone was made to pay for hurting her in such a destructive manner.

Once again, they drove in silence, this time to return the Camry and get the Audi. As Sawyer walked back to the SUV he noticed that Ana was up front in the passenger seat. He supposed she might feel alone in the back and needed to be near another person, she certainly looked as though she needed another person. Luke Sawyer was completely out of his depth here and had no point of reference concerning what he should do. He had not been in a relationship in so long that he could not remember how to communicate with a woman and never had a platonic relationship with a woman who was going through something like this. But then again, did anyone on the planet know someone who was going through this kind of fucked up shit? Most assuredly not. Still not addressing Ana, Sawyer knew it was time to call Taylor with the invented story of Ana feeling so poorly that she did not want to be alone and he was taking her to Katherine Grey's home.

"T, can you hear me? Shit, you do have some shitty ass service out there, where did you guys go? Fuck, all the way out there? All right. I am letting you know Mrs. Grey asked me to take her to the other Mrs. Grey's home. Yes. Mrs. Grey told me she feels too unwell to be alone and wanted to be with her sister-in-law. No, T, she didn't say. She isn't talking much so she probably won't want to talk to Mr. Grey, but I guess he can call his own wife if he wants to. Yup. Later."

"Is he going to call me?" Ana had pulled her legs up on the seat and wrapped her arms around them, her voice sounded tentative and even scared at the prospect of Grey calling her.

"I really can't say, but you know how he can be and I wouldn't rule it out. But they are in an area with bad cell service, so hopefully he won't have a signal to make the call. Do you want me to call Mrs. Grey and let her know we're coming?"

"Shit, I forgot all about doing that. Yeah, if you don't mind I'd appreciate it if you would." Ana replies in a whisper.

"Not a problem. Just lay your head back and close your eyes. We'll be there in no time."

For once, in a very long time, Ana followed Sawyer's advice without having to be told twice and tried her best to turn off her brain and its very vivid and colorful memory but it was futile. Anastasia felt that her life and sanity were in a downward spiral. She had faked strength and endurance since yesterday afternoon and now she was not even sure of whom she really was at this point. She felt disorganized and fractured, broken into tiny bits that the wind scattered years ago. She admitted she was afraid and felt lost and alone without hope or faith. Ana had never been without hope or faith in her ability to survive. Not until now. It terrified Ana, mostly because it was an alien feeling and it was causing her to question whether she could make it. Or if she even wanted to.

The next thing that Ana heard was the dinging noise that is made when a car door is open. Looking around, she noticed that Sawyer was holding her door open and was reaching for her hand. She then realized they were at Kate's.

"Thank you, Luke. Would you mind grabbing my bag? We really have to... go through it." Ana sounds resigned to the task before her.

"I've got it, just go inside. Mrs. Grey is waiting for you at the door."

Katherine hugged Ana as tightly as she could considering her big belly bump getting in their way. Kate kissed her on the cheek and pulled back to examine Ana's face. "You okay?"

"No, not all. But I have everything I needed." Ana looks so sad and vulnerable that Kate looks at Sawyer, her face displaying obvious concern.

Sawyer follows the women inside the home, shutting and locking the front door. Kate's eyes land on the bag he is holding and recognizes it as one that Ana used to carry manuscripts in. Kate probes Sawyer's face for an explanation, but he has kept his expression impassive. Ana answers Kate's unspoken question.

"It has the files and his pictures in it."

"Pictures?" Kate sounds both outraged and disgusted.

"Yes...Is Ava here?"

"No, my parents came and got her last night. Are we going to look at that shit?" Katherine is pointing at the bag that Sawyer is still holding.

"Absolutely. I only care about the last five. After all, we have both gone through the others and know what to expect. Can we take it to the dining room table?

"Sure, sweetie. Come on, Sawyer. Do you guys want anything to drink or eat?" Kate is going through the motions of a pleasant hostess when all she really wants to do is dump that bag out and go through Christian's double life.

Ana declines and takes the bag from Sawyer and begins to empty the bags contents on the dining room table, her best friend's eyes never wavering off her.

"Mrs. Grey, if you have any coffee I'd love to have a cup. But that's only if you've already made some."

"Do you want cream or sugar?" Kate asks but is still watching Ana who is separating folders and then places a stack of pictures beside them.

"Just black, thank you." Kate disappears into the kitchen and Sawyer takes a seat beside Ana looking at everything she has laid out before them.

"Ana, may I take a look at one these folders? I know you and Mrs. Grey described this shit yesterday, but I'd like to read it myself." He keeps a calm and gentle tone to his question. Sawyer does not want it to appear as though he simply wants to pry.

"Go ahead. Then help yourself to the stack... of pictures that have names on them that will match each woman's folder. He took pictures of them in case he needed leverage over them or to enforce their NDA." The bitterness her words indicated that Ana has snapped out of hurt and is now feeling quite angry. When Sawyer does not reply, Ana looks at him speculatively before speaking.

"I don't waste a lot of time pausing between hurt and anger. It is a non-stop pass from that first pang of hurt to my full-blown rage. I'm not proud of it, don't like to admit it, but I'd also never deny it." Her big blue eyes are boring a hole into Sawyer's head in a way to explain herself to him. To allow him a peek inside of whom she really is and what's she made of.

Getting her message, Sawyer does not reply as he reaches for one of the folders, which happens to be of Grey's first contracted sub. It is from the year Grey would have been 21. The contract was straightforward, meaning Grey meticulously detailed what he wanted and expected from these women and screamed he was the same control freak back then as he is now... The file contained a standard NDA and a detailed background check that had a photograph stapled to it. He could not help but notice that this woman could have been Ana Grey's twin sister. The next papers became more interesting. Some were documents that listed things that Grey liked to do along with things he was not interested in. The next set of papers was what the woman was willing or not willing to do. While Luke Sawyer wasn't easily shocked, he knew of every sexual act, and toys Grey had included, what did surprise him were the extreme _punishment _that this particular woman had agreed to let Grey do to her. Also inside were numerous receipts of the outrageously expensive gifts Grey had given the woman, details of the car and all other paperwork that documented all financial aid Grey had provided this woman. Sawyer then searched through the photographs until he found hers and honest to God, he could not believe what he saw. He knew he couldn't understand why Grey got off on doing that shit since he didn't see it appealing at all, but what he really wondered was the mindset of this woman. Why would she want to be treated in such a manner and was she even aware that Grey had taken this picture of her.

Sawyer had been so engrossed in his reading that he had missed Katherine bringing him the cup of coffee until he heard her muttering something about what a twisted fuck up her brother-in-law was. He glanced up and saw that she was sitting beside him looking through another file herself.

"Thanks for the coffee, Mrs. Grey."

"You're welcome, but it was no biggie. If you want more, there's half a pot in there and please just call me Kate. Mrs. Grey is my mother-in-law. Ana, whose going to open up those 5 folders you're holding onto?" Her concern evident.

"I am. Whichever one of you is the least squeamish should get the picture of these five. I want to put them in their file." Ana was so matter of fact. All Sawyer could think of was that this was nothing more than a fucking nightmare.

"I'll go through them, a picture of a tied up and blinded woman with a dildo shoved up her ass doesn't bother me. So you just took the actual files themselves? I thought you were going to make copies. And why did you decide to take his pictures?"

"I think I must have snapped or something and just grabbed all of them. Even if he does notice, it will not be enough to stop the snowball effect he has caused. And I grabbed the pictures for the same reason." Turning her attention to Sawyer, Ana added, "I did remember to wipe my fingerprints off of everything I touched."

"Well, for a wife that is clutching the proof that not only is her husband a cheating bastard whose been doing it their entire marriage, but that's he still a sick fuck, you sure are talking about all of this nonchalantly. Are you all right? I mean, are you really okay?"

"Hell, no, I'm not alright. However, this isn't something that is optional is it? I have to open these up and read this shit. Fuck, I want to know what they look like!" Ana's cheeks were burning hot with her increasing anger, not at her friend, but at this pile of shit before her that signified the end of several wasted years of her life.

"Honey, we already know what they look like," Kate's said her words kindly, but in a matter of fact tone, and Sawyer did not miss the fact that what Kate just said was significant. He looked at the picture of a smiling brown-haired woman that could be Ana Grey.

"Hang on a minute and explain something to me. You both alluded to it yesterday and now I have noticed it and Mrs. Grey has just pretty much confirmed what I am thinking. What do you mean you both already know what they look like? I'm no use to anyone here if I don't have full disclosure." Sawyer sounded irritated at both women and their evasive way of communicating with each other.

Ana knew they were all past the point of no return and there was no reason to keep anything from Sawyer. Telling him the complete and ugly truth would end the hell Ana had discovered she had been living in. She looked at Kate and shrugged who looked at Sawyer and without batting an eyelash told him something he had never imagined in his life.

"Luke, if you were to go through every one of these sickening "insurance" pictures Grey took or any of those folders he keeps on his subs, you will notice that your employer has a "type" when it comes to women. They are all fair skinned, very small and petite brown-haired women. In other words, they all look like Anastasia."

Sawyer was rubbing his chin in deep thought as he looked back at the women who had been in his life. Most did fit a certain "type". He liked a woman that was petite, or a woman who had great legs. It had never really mattered if they were all blondes or brunettes though, so what Kate just told him intrigued him.

"He doesn't vary at all in his preference? I know I like women with great legs, but she doesn't have to look just like every other woman I've been with."

Kate scoffed at this idea and rolled her eyes at him. Then she looked at Ana who obviously recognized that the look was not only a question, but was a certain question.

"Go ahead. Tell him. Let him know how fucked up my life is."

"Anastasia Rose Steele! How many times have I told you this is NOT your fucked up shit? It is Greys! When you found out this bullshit, you were at the beginning of being drug down into his pit of fuckedupness and his claws were already too deeply burrowed inside you. When he admitted his twisted Oedipal complex, you were what, days from marrying the bastard? You were torn in half and did not fully understand shit about his lifestyle and you were making decisions based on love! Stop saying 'your' fucked up life. He fucked you over and hell, he has fooled all of us. He is the one who is fucked up, not you!" Kate was yelling at Ana who just stared at her as if she had heard this lecture before.

Sawyer was staring at both women as though he was watching a soap opera, or perhaps an actual opera, maybe even a Shakespearean play. Had he heard Kate right? Did she say Oedipal complex?

"Whoa….Grey fucks petite brunettes because he has an Oedipal complex?" He sounds stunned and Kate is nodding furiously.

"Ab-so-fucking-lutely! You know the whole BDSM shit, submitting, dominating, tying them up, beating the fuck out of them and then fucking the shit out of them for hours on end. Yeah, that is what Christian does and the reason he does it is that his birth mother was a petite, fair-skinned, brunette. He tried to explain it to Anastasia that he did it due to her abuse for the first four years of his life. She was a drug addict and prostitute who allowed her pimps to abuse him in terrible ways. In other words, he takes out his hatred of his birth mother on these women who enjoy it when he beats them half to death and then he gets so turned on he fucks them. So the sum total of what a horrific person Christian Grey is, is the fact that he is imagining these rent-a-whores are his birth mother and his lovely Oedipal complex is what drives him to want to fuck and beat them."

Katherine gives Luke Sawyer a minute to soak in that bit of information as they stare at one another, his face impassive, hers in total relief that she has finally been able to share her knowledge with someone other than Ana.

"That certainly wasn't what I expected to find out and honestly, I don't know how to respond to that."

"Luke, before I married Christian he never offered up any information on the specifics of how or why he got into a lifestyle of BDSM. Getting it out of him was like pulling teeth; he told me a friend took him to some sex club while he was attending Harvard. Then weeks later, and Kate's right, it was days before we got married, I found a picture of his birth mother in his childhood bedroom and asked who she was. Well, Christian and Elliot had gotten shit faced, so I got lucky in the fact that he told me all about the connection of his birth mother's appearance and all of these submissives he had had. Of course, I felt horrible since I knew I looked just like all of them, but he convinced me that I was nothing like her, and my dumb ass zoned out the glaring truth and believed him. Instead of marrying him I should have rushed him to the nearest psychiatrist."

Kate looks livid and her nostrils are actually flaring. "Have you told him how he did everything in his power after your marriage to entrap you into this sick shit? Have you shared the fact that he beat you with a paddle even after you had repeatedly told him you refused for him to hurt you? Did you tell Sawyer about that and how you still stayed with that freak?"

Luke Sawyer's face is nearly black with anger by Kate's revelation. He slowly looked at Ana, who looked defeated and ashamed. So ashamed.

"No, Kate. That is the first I have heard of that story. Ana, did he hurt you?"

Silence enveloped the room until Kate could not take it any longer. "Yes, of course, he did. It did not fucking tickle. Are you aware of why Anastasia cannot take pain Sawyer? Are you aware of what happened to her as a child?" Ana jumped from chair, rushing to her best friend and screaming. "SHUT UP, KATE! Shut the fuck up!"

Had Sawyer not scrambled to his feet and gotten in between the two, he wasn't so sure that Ana wouldn't have physically attacked her best friend, whose body was shaking in fury and not about to back down.

"Alright, ladies, calm the fuck down. Kate, if Ana doesn't want me to know something then you shouldn't tell me." Ana and Kate continued staring one another down, but it was Kate who looked away first, her expression contrite.

"I'm so sorry Anastasia. I am just so hurt that you have been hurt and I lost my mind. You know I'd never break my promise."

Ana folded her arms and looked to Sawyer. After studying his face for a moment, she decided it was time to stop being ashamed of what someone had done to her, not something she had done to another. The only way to walk away from the past was to walk through it, and Ana decided to take that walk with Luke.

"Luke, when I was ten-years-old one of Carla's' boyfriend molested me and beat me so badly I ended up in the hospital. It was then that Ray got full custody of me and is the reason I have nothing to do with Carla. You are now the only person I've told beside Ray and Katherine." Squaring her shoulders bravely, Anastasia spoke in a tremulous but strong voice.

If he had not been so well trained to not show his emotions, Sawyer would have torn Katherine Grey's home apart. This was the secret he had heard Kate and Ana indirectly talk about all these years. He had always despised a pedophile and believed the only justice for one was for them to be shot in the middle of the street. What he could not understand was how Ana, who had been sexually abused as a child ended up with someone like Christian Grey.

"Ana, I have no words to adequately express how I feel about this. I am truly sorry you went through that. I cannot imagine what that must have been like, or how you managed to come out of the experience as such a wonderful and caring person. Always remember that I'm here for you if you ever need to talk about this." Sawyer felt as if he was barely choking out the words, but he was hiding his emotions well. He could not afford to show any weakness, no matter how dire the situation.

"Thank you, Luke. Do not apologize to me. It was not your fault and I have gotten past it. I am just not one that wants to go around telling everyone because I do not want to look like a victim. I don't want anyone's pity."

"You've never had anyone's pity, Ana." Kate murmured.

Clearly wanting to change the subject and exhaling a deep breath, Ana took three of the five folders she was holding and passed one to Kate and Sawyer. "Less with the chit chat and more with reading. We are burning daylight. Whoever wants the fucking fourth one can have it but I'm saving the last one for myself."

"I suppose I'm the lucky lady who has sub number one, Hillary Wilkins, age 21 and a graduate of Sarah Lawrence. Impressive. Oh, wait a minute...says he met her at some club in New York City, where her background check shows her address listed as Brooklyn, New York. It appears he contracted her in October 2012 and moved her out here and bought her a condominium that cost nearly three hundred thousand dollars. Son of a bitch. He also paid off her student loans and over the course of three months deposited another three hundred thousand dollars into her private bank account. The rest is the usual; clothes, cars, insurance, blah, blah, blah. She went back East in February of 2013, but the condo out here is still in her name." Kate looked up at Ana whose face was a lovely shade of green. "Are you sure you want to really read all this shit?"

"Oh, yeah. Ray always told me that information is the key to everything. Let us see...Well, look here. I have sub number two. Little Miss Leigh Kennedy from Gig Harbor, Washington. Christian noted he met her at a club in Portland..."

Kate interrupted her. "Wait a second. How in the hell would _The Christian Grey _just walk into a BDSM club in Portland and not be immediately recognized? He wouldn't take that risk."

Ana rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Some, well actually, most wear masks. Kate. Especially if it is a high-end place and I am, sure Mr. Grey only trolled a high-end club. I wonder why he has documented on these background checks where he met these subs. Hmm...All right, back to business. Miss Kennedy was contracted in March of 2013 until July of 2013. She is a dental hygienist at a pediatric dentist's office here in Seattle and is twenty-three years old. Paid her rent even after the contract was over and stopped paying it in September of 2013. He also deposited nearly three hundred grand into her bank account. Must be nice to be a billionaire and keep your sex slaves well compensated. Your turn, Sawyer. And stop looking so grim about reading it."

"This is some fucked up shit; you both do realize that, right?"

"Sawyer, like Ana said. Just read it."

"Here goes nothing. Grey met a one Molly Garner at a Portland club, probably the same as the other one. The contract started in November of 2013 and lasted until May of 2014..."

Kate had to jump in with that tidbit. "Well, well. He kept her a while. Interesting."

"Can I continue, Mrs. Grey? Garner is a twenty-six, from Seattle and a graduate of the University of Washington. She works as a registered nurse at the University of Washington Medical Center. Looks like he paid her mortgage up until November of 2014, received the same shit as you both described, and liked the others, he gave her nearly three hundred grand."

Anastasia threw her head back. "What a mother fucker. Do you realize how dearly that man needs to suffer? Huh? Do you both see that? What an evil fuck. God, I am going to enjoy pushing him off his almighty pedestal. Here Kate, read the fourth one." Ana hands it to Kate across the table.

"Alrighty...Oh, another interesting find. Here we have a native of Los Angeles named Jennifer Lawson. My dear brother-in-law met her there in August of 2014 and moved her up to Seattle. She was his sub until that November. Holy fuck. That sick bastard rented her an apartment in Escala that was two floors down from the penthouse! The nerve of that son of a bitch! She is twenty-two and worked various blue-collar jobs, was a waitress when he met her at a BDSM club. She got all the usual shit, and he gave her two hundred thousand that he put in her bank account. He moved her back to LA when the contract ended and bought her a condo down there in a suburb of LA called Brentwood."

Sawyer's mind was in operation overload and he was rubbing his temples. This was all too much shit to listen to. He knew Grey was a fucking jerk off to work for, but he was generous with his pay and benefits. Sawyer had no clue that he was such an incredible fucked up bastard. He notices that Kate has reached across the table to hold Ana's left hand.

"And now someone give me a drum roll...here comes the latest and greatest who Christian really gave it too hard yesterday afternoon. Anyway, she is Haley Sams a twenty-three year-old graduate of the University of Washington here in Seattle. Has lived here her entire life. He met her at a club in Portland, contracted her in February of this year and is obviously still under contract with Christian. He has paid off all her student loans, pays her rent, she has all the same sub bullshit and so far he's deposited seventy-five grand into her personal checking account. Oh, fuuuuuck. Look what we have here. She must be looking for a job that she can use that degree with because guess what she does for a living and even better yet, guess where she works at."

Kate's practically across the table trying to read the file upside down. "Where? Where?"

Ana glanced at her and Sawyer with a devious smirk on her face. "Kate, she's a hostess at one of our very own favorite upscale restaurants, Canlis."

Kate's eyes became enormous. "You're fucking with me! Would Christian take that big of a risk? Having a sub who works in a restaurant that not only you dine at regularly, but his entire family does as well? He's lost his god damn mind."

"Mrs. Grey, if you had seen the condition that Mr. Grey left the penthouse in, you'd realize that it's obvious he no longer cares what anyone suspects or finds out."

"Luke Sawyer, you know for a fact that Christian Grey would die if any member of his family found out who he was really is. But it still makes no sense why he would take that chance knowing every time one of us has gone in there while she is working she is bound to hear our name is Grey and will know who we are. That's just too fucked up."

Ana has taken this Haley Sams' picture off her background check and is staring at it intently. If this young woman has been in Canlis anytime that Ana has, she does not remember seeing her, but she can see that this Haley resembles her to a point that is almost creepy. Ana hands the picture to Sawyer. "Look how much she looks like me." He studies the face and looks at Ana, amazed that she has not broken down by now. Before he knows it, Kate has jerked the picture from his hand. "Holy fuck, Ana. She could be your twin. Even more so than all those others. That shit is fucking sick, Christian loving to beat and fuck whores who look like his mommy. What a god damn freak."

Sawyer raises his hand up and looks a bit confused. "Back to this Oedipal shit I've been mulling over. Grey admitted why all these women look alike?" In a typical Katherine Grey manner, she takes over the conversation and answers for Ana who looks like she has been put through the ringer.

"Yep. He told Ana that he liked to whip and fuck little brown haired girls 'like you' because you all remind me of my birth mother. In addition, he added a cherry to that shit pie by telling Ana he was really a sadist and not a dominant he told her the first night she was at Escala. We were all spending the night at Carrick and Grace's and I was already in bed in Elliot's old bedroom when a frantic Anastasia came bounding into the room and locking the door behind her. Just as she has always done, she told me exactly what happened and what he had said, so I did my best to try to figure out how to get her the fuck away from him. We were actually planning on sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, but when it came down..."

"Go ahead and make me look like a fucking idiot, Kate. I know that you are dying to. You're going to tell Luke that when it came time for me to high tail it away from Christian I just couldn't do it, that I said that I loved him and he had changed. I also started babbling on about Freud and his fucked up theories and understanding why Christian would want to take his anger out on a woman who reminded him of his birth mother. Continue with your story, Kate. Make yourself look like the smart woman and me like a naive little bitch." Ana was sneering at Katherine from across the table only this time Kate actually looked shocked.

"That's not what I was trying to do, Ana. I was simply telling Sawyer what happened that night. Do you really believe I would ever have a motive or desire to hurt or upset you? To put you in a bad light? As I said earlier, you thought the fucker had changed and he made the rest of us believe it as well. I'm not faulting you with any of that and you implying such actually hurt me." Despite her face showing her desperate sincerity and hurt, Kate's words had done nothing to appease Ana, who just sat there looking out the window.

"Let me get this shit straight. A drunken Grey tells Ana all this messed up shit and she comes and tells you. Were you also aware of Grey's BDSM lifestyle prior to their marriage? So, now along with the two of you, I not only know about Greys preferred sexual lifestyle, but that he's a sadist who beats and fucks brunettes who look like his mother? Besides Grey, we are the only other people who know this?" Sawyer's head is pounding and he really wishes he had reenlisted in the Corps rather than joining Greys security team.

"Yes, Luke. We are the only three people that know. I don't even know if Christian is aware what he confessed when he was so trashed, but we have never talked about it." Kate throws her head back and begins to yell at Ana from not only anger but frustration as well.

"Shit! I don't fucking believe that. Those little subs have that little weekly meeting we uncovered when I found out about a little brunette Elliot had fucked when he was single. Sawyer, my insane ass found out where the slut lived and practically had to drag Ana to come with me to check her out. Imagine our surprise that I had picked the lucky day when all of Christian's subs were headed into the slut's apartment. We recognized those whores from their pictures in the folders we had gotten into, not to mention they all pulled up in red Audi's. You have no idea how badly I wanted to tell Christian and Elliot that they'd fucked the same slut."

"Kate, just because we stumbled across that doesn't mean they know that they..."

"What the fuck, Ana? Do you think they are all blind? They know they look alike and you are in the press enough that they damn well know you look just like them! They don't know WHY they all look alike but don't think anyone is stupid enough to be blind to that shit."

"Jesus Christ. I've been living in a Peyton Place of BDSM." Sawyer sounds like he has had enough of the subject as well as these two bickering women. Now, Kate will not drop the bone she is holding between her teeth.

"And staying on the subject of creepy, sick, BDSM fucks, I have NO doubt that Grace's freaky best friend Elena Lincoln is into this BDSM bullshit too and you know exactly why I believe that!"

"Kate! How many times have I told you we do not know that? How in the world would Grace associate herself with someone like that? We both know she wouldn't go near that type of person, much less be best friends with one."

Just the name Elena Lincoln made the hairs on the back of Luke Sawyer's neck stand up and he watched as the argument between Ana and Kate began to escalate.

"Whatever! You may roll your eyes when I say this, but my career requires me to observe behavior and after knowing what I now know about BDSM, I would bet Elliot's right nut that scary black widow is into BDSM. In addition, explain to Sawyer and me why she is Christian's only friend? Did you know that, Luke? Well, of fucking course you do. Why are they in business together? A multi-billionaire is a partner with a pathetic chain of salons, and that is if you consider three a chain. Then explain to me why they constantly have lunch AND dinners together ALONE? EXPLAIN that shit to me Ana! Yet you do NOTHING! Well, other than find the fucking credit card receipts. And tell Sawyer what a drunken Grey said about her to you? How hot and stunning he found her and that she was the only person who knew the REAL Christian Grey! What do you fucking think he meant when he said the word 'real'? You know exactly what he meant!"

Halfway through Kate's screaming tirade Ana started sobbing uncontrollably, but Kate was on a roll and she could not make herself stop. She loved Ana so much and she had spent too much time watching her be treated like a moron, and watching as Ana ignored facts that were as obvious as the nose on her face. Hell, even their family were clueless to whatever it was with Christian and Elena Lincoln. Kate had never been able to get any information out of Elliot except that she gave him the creeps and as long as he had remembered Mrs. Lincoln had been around his family.

Kate knew she had just stepped over a line with Ana, but she was a firm advocate of tough love and she had tiptoed through the daisies about all of this shit for long enough. "Ana, I'm sorry for how I just spoke to you. It was out of line and I did not mean to hurt you. I apologize."

Ana was sniffling and using the back of her shirtsleeve to wipe her nose. "Where's the 'but'?"

"Ana, I don't have to throw in a 'but' or point out anything else. Especially since you know it and I have been aware that you know it for a long time. I see it in your eyes and body language every time we are at Carrick and Grace's and she is there. I've heard it in your voice over the phone while you're home alone and your husband is at a 'business' meeting with her until eleven o'clock at night."

The silent tension in the room is insufferable and while unhappy with the way Kate spoke to Ana and that she had upset her so much, Sawyer understood why Kate chose to behave this way.

Sometimes you have to hold a mirror up to someone's face to remind them of what they look like.

A/N

If this chapter is full of typos, don't think I didn't edit it. I've been sick and haven't checked it over as much as I usually do.

Next chapter is "the" chapter you're all wanting.


	15. Chapter 15

All rights to the characters and the story of FSoG belong to E. L. James

_**Machiavellian: Part One**_

_**Friday, April 10**__**th**__**, 2015**_

_Gstaad, Switzerland_

Christian Grey is staring at the Bernese Alps from a window in The Presidential Suite at the Gstaad Palace. Nursing his second glass of bourbon, Christian Grey is going over the past week with meticulous detail. The events of last Friday night are still freshly uncomfortable in his mind and feeling unsettled. That was the night his wife was so ill and she had sent him downstairs to retrieve her purse and cell phone and as usual Christian began to read her text messages. Christian found one that Katherine had sent Anastasia two weeks earlier that said, 'I know how hard this day is for you, but remember you're no longer a ten-year-old girl. You're a strong and brilliant woman'. His first thought was that Kate was referring to the day Anastasia had been physically abused by one of Carla's boyfriends, but the more he ruminated on Kate's words, they began to shape into something more significant. Christian went straight to his office and ordered Welch to dig into Anastasia's past medical records and that he wanted them yesterday. Thirty minutes later, Christian was scrolling through the detailed report Welch had emailed him and he experiences a rare feeling of regret that the night he used the paddle on Anastasia that he had not looked into the incident further. Christian was confounded that he felt this way and sat behind his desk trying to determine where it was coming from. Anastasia had finally explained where her horror of experiencing physical pain came from while Christian was bathing her after taking that paddle to her as he fucked her from behind. It was also the moment Christian realized Anastasia had officially slammed the door to ever fulfilling his deepest need and that realization inflamed him with such fury that Christian hadn't cared that his wife had been abused and as he sat there remembering how that had made him feel he saw what a hypocrite he had been. Christian was also abused as a child and it still affected him in ways that Anastasia always helped him through his troubles.

Christian kept his eyes on the report Welch had emailed him and admitted to himself the reason he never delved into the matter was the unadulterated truth that he only cared about himself. He knew that not giving a fuck that his wife had been traumatized firmly established what he always knew, that he was an irredeemable monster. The only reason Christian kept going over the horrific information was to solidify the truth of what an evil bastard he would always be.

_Yes, Grey, the very night the sadist in you emerged to punish Anastasia and not give a fuck about the pain and panic you caused her, you had Miss Garner on the side. A nice brunette sub._

Last Friday night Christian had shut off his computer and sat there contemplating whether he should do something about his new-found knowledge. Realizing that Anastasia had never confided that she had been sexually molested as a child, he knew that if he were to tell her he had found out would be cruel. Christian scoffed at this thought… Cruel. As if he had not spent the better part of their entire marriage being cruel to her even if she would never know, but he was now considering Anastasia's feelings.

_Christian scoffed at his thought…Cruel. You are the man who had spent the better part of your marriage being cruel to your wife even though she did not know it. Now you are considering Anastasia's feelings now._

Christian genuinely cared about his wife's feelings, but who could not? She was a woman who cared deeply for others and often sacrificed her own wants and desires to make others happy. Anastasia was an honest and a good human being and blindly gave herself to him, a man without a heart. Perhaps this was why Christian felt as though he was obligated to her. He had given Anastasia full ownership of Grey Publishing and their home because he felt obligated due to his betrayal and the lie-filled path he allowed her to walk along once he had resumed his previous lifestyle. However, Christian also gave her those things because he realized there would come a day when Anastasia would uncover the truth and it would kill her. He felt her absolute devotion for him and he wanted her to have something tangible, other than the money that he would give her, so that would eventually heal and be happy. However skewed and ridiculous that train of thought was, in Christian's mind it made perfect sense and after finding out someone had nearly destroyed her life already, Christian's fucked up head told him that he now owed her even more since he would ultimately be the one that would destroy her. Pondering what that _something _might be, Christian thought about that one thing Anastasia had asked him for a long while. She wanted to have his baby, to carry and raise a child that would have the DNA of the son of a drug-addicted prostitute who had killed herself in front of her four-year-old son. Christian knew he would never, could never, and never wanted to be a father. A child had no place in his lifestyle and he would surely destroy the child and turn it into another Christian Grey. Nevertheless, he had successfully evaded Anastasia and his family when the subject of becoming parents came up. With Elliot already a father and expecting another child, Christian lived on bated breath that Anastasia would once again broach the subject of having a baby and he would have to pull out his usual excuses for putting a child on hold. But now, after watching Anastasia physically ill and in intractable pain from her chronic migraines and now knowing and understanding the inner pain she surely struggled with for her past, Christian's warped thinking made him feel obligated to Anastasia and the pain she's been living with. Christian knew the most significant thing he could offer Anastasia was what he denied her for so long and that was a child. No, he did not want one and knew he would never find a way to love a child of his the way Anastasia would, but Christian did know a child would make Anastasia happy after their doomed marriage would eventually end. Christian would never be a part of the child's life, but he would always provide for it and he knew that between Anastasia and his family the child would always be loved. Gazing blindly at the beautiful mountains before him, Christian suddenly realized that for him to be such a brilliant executive, he was a complete idiot for even thinking of such a stupid scenario.

However, last week in his office, he noticed how long it had been since going to get Anastasia's purse and cell phone and made his way into their bedroom and sat beside her, concentrating on a way to appear as if the words about to pass his lips were true. Once Anastasia realized what he said, she stared at him in shock for several minutes.

_Please let there be a God and have her say no_

When Anastasia did say those two magical words, Christian felt as if he had been given a reprieve from a death sentence. Christian had offered her something to assuage her pain and she let him off the hook and left him forever grateful.

_Fuck, he deserved to be shot in the street for being such a disgusting human being and a complete waste of air. Who was he to play with people's lives and their emotion's?_

Nearly throwing his glass of bourbon into the nearest wall, Christian thought about one of the reasons he had been drawn to Anastasia in the first place. She was exactly like his mother, Grace. Kind, loving, nurturing and gentle. Traits that Christian was void of but were the reasons that his wife and mother were the two women he never wanted to hurt.

_Keep lying to yourself Grey. You never want to hurt Anastasia? That is laughable._

Nearly six thousand miles away from his wife, Christian felt indebted to Anastasia was that she patched the holes in the fractured relationship he had had with his family and although he did not deserve their love, he selfishly took it anyway. The unconditional love his family poured upon him brought him alien emotions of happiness and contentment that Christian knew would disappear as soon as his marriage was over and he once again took to hiding himself in the sky above Seattle. Christian imagined seeing the disappointment in Anastasia and Grace's eyes and could not deny that if just an ash of human decency remained somewhere in his body, their disappointment would snuff it out for good. In addition, that very thought stirred up a fear that was nearly obsolete in Christian's being. That same fear that kept him away from his family since the week after his fifteenth birthday. The week he gave Elena Lincoln his life. Christian knew his distant past called out to him and he continued to live there since it was like fighting the battle of Shiloh and he knew there wasn't relief for the kind of evil he was.

_However, Anastasia was supposed to be that relief wasn't she? She was the woman who was supposed to rid you of this evil._

Christian threw back the remaining bourbon and poured himself another as he sat down in front of his laptop. This extended business trip to Switzerland came out of nowhere on Monday morning and he had been forced to tell Anastasia of the trip via email and to tell her he would not be able to see her before he left Seattle. Unable to reach her by phone, he called Sawyer, who told him she was in several back-to-back meetings. Looking back, he realized they had not laid eyes on one another since last Friday. When he returned from his fishing trip with his dad and Elliot that Sunday evening, Anastasia had already fallen asleep and left for work the next morning before he even woke up. When she found out later in the day about his trip abroad, she was not pleased and told him she already missed him. He was there with Ros and it was beginning to look like they would possibly have to stay another week. Sipping at his drink, he read the email Anastasia sent him around noon Seattle time informing him she was headed to Washington, D.C. for a week-long publishing conference and would be leaving Sunday afternoon with Sawyer. Christian had put Taylor in charge of checking out her story and some background checks on the people that she would be spending the majority of her time with.

_Still a control freak when it came to Anastasia even if I don't understand why._

Without even considering that he should reply to his wife's email, he instead wrote his latest sub, Miss Sams and informed her not to expect to see him for a while, and reiterated that although he was half way around the world, he still had eyes on her if she thought she could slip around with another man. He also threatened her of what would happen if any member of his family were to dine at Canlis and she remotely acknowledged knowing him. Miss Haley Sams had only been his submissive for two months and he was already bored with her. Despite that she was twenty-three and had been a sub since the age of nineteen, their scenes were increasingly tedious, and the only thing Christian looked forward to was punishing her for the slightest infractions. Last Friday he caned her thirty times for wearing red shoes, despite the fact that he had never told her she couldn't wear red shoes. For one who felt ultimate control in his playroom, last Friday afternoon Christian lost all control with Miss Sams and the playroom was left in shambles. After he had punished her so harshly and in numerous ways, Miss Sams was no longer enjoying the scene and this incensed Christian further. The last three times Christian fucked her, she was dry as the desert and despite her cries were from pain, she never used a safe word. Christian eventually pulled his cock out of her before he even came and threw the used condom on her and left the playroom while Miss Sams remained face down on the bed's mattress as he snarled at her to be gone by the time he had showered and was ready to head back to GEH. Christian planned on seeing her one more time and then ending their contract. When he first met her at the club, she had been just like all his previous subs, petite brown-haired women that he used for self-gratification. However, Miss Sams was the sub that made Christian realize that his last four subs had all morphed into his birth mother and his wife, not only in appearance, but also from his vicious urge to physically hurt them both.

_Anastasia forced me back into this hellish existence by failing to rescue me and that's why she's turning into Ella._

Christian continued reading and responding to hundreds of work related emails and thinking of strategies to use with this latest deal for GEH. No matter how much work he did or amount of bourbon he had drunk, his mind kept wandering off to the woman that was his wife. A gorgeous woman he had not bothered to reply to her email or to call her. Although he knew what a decent husband would do, for some reason tonight, he just could not make himself do the right thing. Christian knew who he really was, but he also knew who he really tried to be and how he truly believed he had changed for Anastasia. He had craved the normalcy and happiness he saw in his family and in the marriage of his parents from the age of four and he thought he had found it in a pair of ocean blue eyes. For a short while, Christian had that feeling of normalcy, as uneasy as that feeling might have been, Anastasia made it easy. While he now cared for Anastasia's safety and well-being, there had been a time where he was in love with her, although now he had come to believe it had been the passing illusion that she was his savior.

_The savior who would let me down and failed to do her job of fixing me._

Christian's alcohol infused brain silently consented that he had been in love with her and that even but for a short time, his love for her had been deathless.

Honesty. Truthfulness. Sincerity.

Each a simple word that has a significant meaning. If these meanings are ignored or forgotten, they become a situation a person cannot easily get out of. My dishonesty is based on the fact I do not want people to know what a complete and sick fuck up I am. Dishonesty is my way of getting whatever I want and is high on my list of sins. Dishonesty is what set my sights on Miss Anastasia Steele. From the second I saw her at The Fairmont, I knew she had to be mine. She was undoubtedly and still is, the most beautiful woman Christian had ever laid eyes on. Christian's cock had been hard as a rock during that entire photo shoot and all he remembered of that day was that he had to know her name so he could get her background check. Her perfect alabaster skin was the sort of perfection that a cane was meant for and it all but consumed him. Christian remembered how he obsessed over Miss Anastasia Steele and imagined her face while he fucked one of his subs, even going so far as to buy the company she worked for and putting her under his security surveillance, all of this before "accidentally" running into her at his club. The fact that she had injured herself that night was as if fate was handing her to Christian on a silver platter and he spent the next three weeks doing whatever he could to gain her to trust him enough that she would agree to dinner at Escala. Once Christian was able to get Anastasia into his penthouse the night soured quickly. From her strong-willed hostility over signing an NDA, disgust with his playroom and her outrage that he had taken the liberty to draw up a contract between the two of them, Anastasia had poked that beast Christian had successfully been hiding from her. Christian may be nearly six-thousand miles from Seattle, but he vividly remembers how Anastasia's behavior sent that beast over the edge with one question about his family. That was when Christian's temper erupted like an atom bomb and he destroyed his entire office, causing Anastasia to cower behind a chair. As sudden as the beast within Christian emerged, Anastasia did something no other person had ever dared to. She tentatively approached him and softly kissed his lips and left him reeling in a tornado of confusion.

While Anastasia's intent was to calm Christian and to show him that she cared and wanted to comfort him, that conniving part of Christian's mind took this as a perfect opportunity. He already knew that Anastasia wanted him and he abused that knowledge by turning that kiss of comfort into one of lust that quickly led to Christian using his highly honed sexual skills on her in hopes it would prove to Anastasia how good they would be together. Then the situation turned on him when Anastasia expected Christian to fuck her. His mind completely shut down and he felt as though reality as he knew it was being split apart as he was positioned between her legs with his cock hard as a rock. He wanted nothing more than to fuck her, but Christian had no clue how to do it without having her in his playroom and tied to the bed spread eagle. Christian could hear the woman under him saying the hold on her wrists was hurting her, but he was paralyzed with fear and had no idea what he should do. His cock was touching her opening and Anastasia was using all her strength to lower herself onto him, yet here he was contemplating whether he could have vanilla sex with her. Gazing down on her confused face, his own confusion began to tell him that if anyone could help turn him into a normal man, one void of depravity, it was Anastasia.

_Nevertheless, you couldn't do it, could you?_

Before another thought passed in Christian's mind, he had plunged himself deep within Anastasia and experienced the best sex of his life, especially when he realized that this beautiful woman was not only taking his hard fuck, she was enjoying it. Once Christian began taking chances inflicting slight amounts of pain as they fucked, he was thrilled the way they turned Anastasia on. There was hope for her yet and along with their mind-blowing fuck and Anastasia's pure genuine goodness, Christian fell in love. Or did he?

Christian and Anastasia spent the next three months glued together at the hip and he saw his life being filled with a warm light he'd never felt before. This woman's gentle heart comforted him in the middle of the night as he screamed in terror and assuaged his tortured soul. Anastasia's shy yet strong personality won the heart of his entire family and she taught him how to accept the love they had for him. Every brick that Anastasia Rose Steele removed from the wall surrounding Christian's heart was all the proof he needed to know that he'd changed and she was the catalyst for it all. Soon they were planning a wedding and were living a life that Christian Grey never imagined he was capable of.

_However, you were not capable and Anastasia could not do her job and make you capable. Elena was right. Love is for fools._

The only dark shadow that loomed over Christian and Anastasia was Elena Lincoln. Christian had lied to his fiancé when she finally asked him how he was introduced into BDSM, he could not afford the risk of his family finding out, and Christian was nearly 100% positive that Anastasia told Katherine everything and if Kate were to find out then disaster would surely occur. Red warning sirens went off the first time Anastasia laid eyes on Elena Lincoln and left Christian in misery. No matter how many ways he danced around the topic of Elena, Anastasia never believed his explanations and told him it was completely nonsensical that a businessman of his stature would have an interest in being co-owner of three 'beauty shops' as she insultingly called them. Every time Christian had lunch or dinner with Elena, it sent Anastasia into a petulant mood that Christian could not tolerate. He had spent his entire life doing as he pleased and having Anastasia question him or express her wish for him to end this strange business entanglement that sometimes kept him out past eleven at night did not bode well with him. As Christian sat in the opulent Presidential Suite of a five-star hotel overlooking the Swiss Alps, he looked back at his behavior when Elena was brought up and realized he was wrong when he carelessly threw his wife's feelings aside. Christian could place that blame on Elena since she spent most of the time they spent together running Anastasia in the ground and he believed she was just looking out for him as his dear friend. Pouring himself yet another drink and already on his way to being drunk, Christian remembered every time Anastasia's beautiful blue eyes looked up at him showing him how he was hurting her and how easily he dismissed her feelings. Perhaps it was his increasingly intoxicated state of mind, but Christian felt a deep sense of regret that he was not able to rid his mind no matter how much bourbon he consumed.

_Why was he so fucking stupid?_

Elena amazed Christian over the fact he had left their lifestyle and became involved with Anastasia. The one and only time she had scoffed at him and his new life was during a phone call after Grace informed Elena about Christian's girlfriend. Elena reminded Christian that he was not capable of loving anyone and that this 'mousy' Anastasia was just a passing fancy that he would eventually break since he was a natural Dominant and the urges he had his entire life would never leave him. Elena wished him luck on 'ruining' his life as master of his universe and that she could not wait to lay her eyes on the 'pitiful' girl that Christian would one day destroy. Elena further shocked Christian by never bringing up those urges for his previous lifestyle or offered to procure him with new submissives. The night of the infamous dinner that nearly cost him Anastasia, Christian was well aware that Elena's horrendous behavior toward Anastasia was her blatant way to plant doubt and insecurity into Anastasia's mind. Unfortunately for Christian, not only did it work, but he was also uncomfortably aware that Katherine Kavanagh was watching Elena's behavior as well. Christian then spent an entire week making mistake after mistake as he attempted to save his own ass and the only way he knew how to do that was to revert to his old ways of assigning blame to the person he had wronged and planting doubt in their head. This time, however, it had not worked with Anastasia, but for some reason he did not understand, she just let it go.

_She wanted to see the best in me._

Whatever seeds of doubt that Elena had planted in Christian's mind eventually began to sprout and they grew into the way Christian treated Anastasia. He had never been gentle with her in bed, and as disgusting as it is, he knew that he had only been fucking her for these past three years. Christian knew that Anastasia desperately wanted him to make love to her, but he just could not lose the need of Anastasia submitting her body to his will. Christian recognized the pleasure Anastasia was feeling when he subtly inflicted pain on her body as they fucked. The more he manipulated both her mind and body, she started going into his playroom where he was beginning to introduce her to the pleasurable side of BDSM and watched as her natural curiosity started wanting to try more but remained steadfast in her refusal to allow pain to be involved. Christian used many of his twisted ways trying to drag Anastasia into the dark thirst that was slowly emerging in his soul. That dark thirst that increasingly demanded to be quenched, and although Anastasia was finally giving Christian small sips to satisfy that thirst, they were never enough.

_Why couldn't they have been enough? If they had been enough, we would not be caught up in an impending shit storm._

It had not taken Christian very long to manipulate his wife into thinking that a harder flick of his flogger, a harsh spanking with his hand and even a rough, hard fuck in the ass were any different from the other experiences of pleasurable pain that he had given to her before. Even now, sitting in a chair in front of a raging fire and drunk off his ass, Christian closes his eyes and savors the word painful and recalls all the times he'd said the word to Anastasia and promise her that yes, it might be a little painful, but never unbearable. Long past Christian's fateful decision to return to his previous lifestyle, when it came to Anastasia and his desperate want to punish her, he continued to be perfidious in his ways to break her. To do what Christian enjoyed, what gave him indescribable pleasure, and what made him who he was.

_Why did you want to break the best thing to ever pass your way? Because_ _she wasn't able to erase the black off your soul?_

Even after one sub became two and two became three, Christian was still fucking his wife with motives he pursued in duplicitous ways. Yet Christian could never fuck her into complete submission and she would not allow him to punish her. Christian felt his control slipping and decided to punish her sexually, pressuring her to do things he knew she was not comfortable with. Just as Elena had done to him while he was chained to a ceiling, Christian would humiliate her. Anastasia would kneel in front of her husband while he fucked her mouth so deep and fast that she would sometimes choke; all the while Christian would be yanking her braided hair so hard it would feel as though he was trying to tear out her hair. Christian would cum and hold Anastasia's head forcefully into place so she could not move away as he blew his load down her throat. Alternatively, he would perform his favorite act of ass fucking her and when he started to cum, Christian would quickly flip Anastasia over and cum in her mouth. Once he had considered her weak, he would take sadistic pleasure coming home after fucking his sub in the ass without using a condom or washing off his cock, Christian would have Anastasia give him head. Whatever perverted and twisted monster Christian thought he was before Anastasia Steele came into his world, he readily admitted he was now such a sick and disgusting human being that did not deserve to live and even contemplated killing himself on several occasions. Even those thoughts did nothing to stop Christian from pulling every trick in the book to get Anastasia to be who he needed to be even if he had a sub that was.

_Grey, own your shit. Those useless whore subs of yours were not the reason you would befoul your own wife._

Christian drunkenly staggers to his laptop after deciding to reply to Anastasia's email. His eyesight so blurry he could barely see the keyboard. When Christian typed out Anastasia's name, he felt sicker than he did while drinking the entire bottle of bourbon and recalling how disgusting he was. Christian told her that he had already sent the GEH jet back to Seattle so she would not have to fly commercial to D.C. Closing the email by telling her that he loved her, Christian laughed at his own audacity. How could he be so cruel and demented to keep this beautiful and brilliant woman as his wife only for his sick enjoyment?

_You keep her for more than that, Grey._

He knew she deserved a man who was decent and kind and would give her a family, something Christian could never do. Surely if he had ever had an ounce of actual love for Anastasia, the night he brought out the paddle would have never occurred. For two entire days, Christian sat at his desk at Grey House thinking about what a good girl his latest sub had been by taking thirty blows with his cane and another thirty with one of his favorite belts. What flummoxed Christian was why he always pictured his sub as his wife as each blow struck their body. It was in those two days that Christian made a conscious decision to do that one thing he had kept himself from ever doing to Anastasia. He made his mind up that when he got home; he was going to break her hard limit.

_That was the moment you hit rock bottom, Grey._

Christian knew that if he was not rough with Anastasia that she enjoyed anal sex and that is why he had bought her the anal beads. They were a calculated way to distract her as he fucked her face down with her arms behind her back and tied at her wrists. At first, Christian decided to try to convince Anastasia to play around and let him spank her with the paddle while he fucked her, but as usual, she turned him down. Christian drunkenly remembers that after she refused to allow him to use it on her that he reinforced his conscious decision of breaking her hard limit by telling himself that he seemingly needed this from Anastasia despite the fact he was already getting it elsewhere. Anastasia was not capable of giving it to him and Christian could not decide if it was from her sheer stubbornness or Anastasia just being defiant.

_Would you have done anything differently had you known the truth? If she had only confided in you from the very beginning?_

However, on that particular night in their bedroom, Christian had a miserable soul and a selfish mind and did not pick up that paddle and begin to lay those vicious blows on his wife trying to show her how pleasure and pain went hand in hand. Christian's decision of breaking her hard limit was a conscious desire to hurt and inflict pain on her. He wanted to punish her for not being his submissive at home and for not leaving his mind in the playroom while he fucked his actual subs.

_I should have never expected Anastasia to give in to me if it was going to kill her. I will regret that night for the rest of my miserable life and I can only hope when I am dead that I can attend my own funeral and spit on my hell bound corpse._

_A/N_

_Christian's POV had to be written in two chapters. I immediately saw that his POV about Ana did not mesh as I was writing his POV about his return to his previous lifestyle as well as the subs. It looked like and also read like I was just cramming it all in one place to get it out of the way. It didn't flow correctly, I had someone read it, and they agreed. I promised I would post both chapters of Christian's POV at the same time, but my youngest child has caught what I had last week and we spent 3 hours at the doctor. It will be up tomorrow._


	16. Chapter 16

All rights to the characters and the story of FSoG belong to E.L. James

_~Anna's note-I know that I promised this chapter would be uploaded the day after chapter 15. My 12-year-old son has had the rare complication of mono, which is an enlarged spleen, and he has been in the hospital for several days. I am actually posting this from his hospital room since my husband brought my computer. ~ (I am adding an addendum to this note, since the upload was pushed back further. Yesterday evening, my uncle passed away and life got out of hand rather quickly. Be patient with me for the next few days as our family deals with this unexpected tragedy) _

_**If you get bent out of shape reading about Christian or Anastasia having sex with another character, do not read this. This chapter has a plenteous amount of sex that some may deem too graphic to read. I can see that the sex in this chapter might seem redundant, but it is meant to describe a lot of Christian's personality, so notice that. If this type of content offends you, I suggest you do not read this chapter. I apologize in advance for the length of this chapter. It has over 12,000 words in it. (Oh, shit!) I would have divided it into two chapters but with everything going on in my life, I just did not care to bother.**_

_**Machiavellian: Part Two**_

_**Friday, October 12**__**th**__**, 2012**_

_New York City, NY _

"It feels like you are never coming home, Christian. Promise you will never take another business trip if it is going to be this long. I miss you so much." Anastasia's voice sounded like warm honey slowly dripping in Christian's ear. He would give anything to be with her now, but GEH was in the middle hostile takeover, Christian knew he had to be in New York City.

"Baby, I begged you to come with me, you know. Trust me; I miss you and every inch of you." Just thinking about Anastasia's long brown tresses and her perfect skin had Christian hard as a rock and his right hand was already in his pajama pants and gripping his cock. He knew that if he did not get to fuck her that his blue balls would explode.

Anastasia sighed deeply, "I know you did, Christian, it just didn't feel right to take any more time off. I want to excel on my own merit and for it not to seem as if I'm getting preferential treatment because I'm married to the owner of the company," Anastasia replies in a soft apprehensive voice. Christian understands and respects how his wife feels along with her work ethic and wants her to succeed on her own. However, that does not mean he has changed his mind about her not working so she can accompany him on all his business trips.

"That makes perfect sense, Anastasia, and while I wish you were here I am proud of your ambition," Christian reassures her and yawns deeply. He wants to talk to Anastasia, but its rapidly approaching midnight and he is exhausted. Unable to ignore how weary Christian sounds, Anastasia looks at the clock, remembers the time difference between them, and admits she could go to sleep herself.

"Well, it's best if we hang up and you go to sleep because you sound exhausted. I can imagine how early your first meeting will be in the morning, and I could actually go to sleep myself," Anastasia whispers as if speaking to a small child. She can hear Christian smiling over the phone.

"Alright, baby. I'll email you in the morning and don't give Sawyer a hard time tomorrow, I'll know if you do," he says sternly. Anastasia giggles at him.

"I won't, I promise. Sleep now and now I love you," Anastasia replies softly.

"I love you, too. Sweet dreams," Christian breathes and then ends the call.

Rolling on his back, and still gripping his cock, Christian's mind wanders back to wife's delectable body and begins to jerk off. Thinking about Anastasia's long dark hair and her perfect pale skin that slightly flushes when she orgasms, Christian remembers their honeymoon and those silly pink handcuffs he'd cuffed her wrists behind her back while he fucked her mouth, yet the harder and faster he's stroking his cock, he's nowhere near blowing his load. Throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut, Christian imagines those silly handcuffs as actual metal cuffs digging into Anastasia's wrists and the welts they will leave on her skin. Even as he concentrates on those glorious red welts and strokes his cock furiously, Christian is no closer to falling off the edge than he was before. Frustration is overtaking him and his mind has drifted to having his wife in ways that she would never allow as he grits his teeth while chasing down his orgasm. Christian is pumping his cock harder than a fourteen-year-old boy is and no matter what he fantasizes about doing to his wife, he realizes he is wasting his time, as his member is now completely flaccid and finally stops. Getting up to wash his hands, Christian stares at his face in the mirror above the sink and wonders what in the hell was going on with him. While Christian has had a few dark fantasies about Anastasia, they have always gotten him off. This time he had lost himself imagining the rougher things he could do to Anastasia but no matter what he saw himself doing to her, nothing had worked. A sudden realization that reverberated throughout his body hit Christian like a brick. His fantasy about Anastasia with metal handcuffs biting into her skin could not get him off because he knew she would never let him do that to her. His fantasy would always remain that, a fantasy and his cock reminded him of that.

Christian made his way back in the bedroom and sat on the edge of his bed, running both hands in his hair while his mind raced to places he had kept at bay for many months now. The sex between him and Anastasia had always been mind-blowing fucks and she had kept him satisfied with those certain acts she had assented to and had begun to enjoy. Christian had been happy with Anastasia not being interested in the harsher aspects of BDSM or her refusal to allow him to punish her. Fuck, until now, he had never really wanted to punish her. Christian holds his head in his hands as he rests his arms on his legs and confusion mixed with a dark arousal has entered his head. Thoughts of his past are intruding into his present and he begins to feel his cock harden. Sasha is strapped to his whipping bench while he canes and then fucks her. Emma is blindfolded with a ball gag in her mouth as Christian pounds into her ass. No matter how hard he tries to block these thoughts, he sees the faces of countless women who have been in his playroom, naked and kneeling by the doorway. A perfect submissive that only cares to please him while their eyes are downcast and call him Sir. The longer Christian sits there and remembers the way his life used to be and the immeasurable joy he had by being in total control, he starts craving it. The longer he sits there, his mind takes over his body, and he sits up straight. What would it hurt to go to a club and jerk off to a scene between a Dominant and a sub? It would not hurt anyone if no one ever found out. If all he did was sitting in a darkened room and watched the scene to ease the weight of his balls, it would be perfectly fine. Anastasia would not like it or understand why he wanted to do this, but it was not cheating. It was just a fantasy while he masturbated, just as he had been doing earlier.

Before he even knew it, Christian had on his black jeans and a black tee shirt. Luckily, he kept a black leather jacket in his apartment here and he slipped it on. He remembered the exact address of Manhattan's most exclusive BDSM club, and fortunately, he was a member. He would have to enter the back and be supplied with a mask to conceal his identity since he was on the cover of last month's Forbes magazine. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen he wrote down the address and called Taylor to tell him he had to be somewhere. Within minutes, an impeccably dressed Taylor was out of his quarters and by the apartment elevator. Both men wore impassive expressions while waiting for the elevator to arrive. Christian knew that Taylor was probably very confused at his boss needing to be somewhere well after midnight and he also knew that Taylor would never ask why and that is exactly, why he had hired him.

Christian waited on the sidewalk as Taylor went to the apartment's parking garage to get the SUV. Christian was shifting on his feet; they appeared to be marching in time with the jumbled thoughts in his mind. He kept telling himself that he was simply going to the club to watch a scene through a one-way window and get himself off. There was no way that entering the club's BDSM environment would spark the previous fire as it once had and he had no doubt this wasn't going to put a kink in the changes Anastasia had brought about. She had loved him enough that it had altered Christian's worldview and even before their first night together, he had been craving to escape the life of loneliness that his dark secret imposed upon him. Anastasia loved him and brought light into his life, taking his last name and made him proud every time they walked into a social event together. Her love would be his anchor tonight and although Christian knew Anastasia would never know about this, he knew that her love would get him through it.

Taylor pulled up to the curb and Christian just jumped in the backseat before Taylor could come around and open his door. Without saying a word, Christian leaned his arm between the front seats and held out the piece of paper that had the club's address on it. "Program that address in the GPS and when we get there drop me off at the side door and park in the back lot. Taylor did as he was told without question. Alone in the back, Christian kept running a hand through his hair and shaking his left leg. His heart was pounding against his chest from excitement as he remembered the way the club looked and even the way it smelled. The second Christian recognized his destination; he immediately felt the temperature inside the SUV take a nosedive and knew it was from Taylor's disgust and disappointment. Christian nearly explained to Taylor that he was not here trolling for a sub but then remembered he was just his employee. Christian opened the door and got out of the SUV the second it came to a stop at the side door. "I'll text you when I'm ready," he gruffly told his CPO. Taylor curtly nodded and once Christian shut the door, he went to back parking lot to wait.

Christian knocked on the door that each member had been instructed to do. A small window slid open and Christian saw the face of a young blonde man who looked like a college kid.

"May I help you, Sir?" The guy even sounded like a college kid.

"Name is C. Grey. Member since 2008 and I'll need a mask." Christian voice and posture seemed to change from a natural born instinct; he now sounded and looked like a Dominant. The kid disappeared for a moment before opening the door and passed Christian a black mask who placed it over his face before entering the club.

"Enjoy yourself, Sir. I'm sure you know where to go." Christian did not even bother to reply and headed downstairs to the club's main area. He heard very loud music before he opened the door, but as soon as he stepped into the club; Christian's cock was already twitching. He looked around the place and despite that he had not been there in a several years, Christian realized that nothing had changed. The same old typical shit was occurring as it does in every BDSM club. Dominants looking for a submissive to scene with, while others sat drinking at the bar. Christian knew the way to the private rooms for D/s play and the rooms where you could watch a couple doing a scene. He approached the bar and ordered himself bourbon on the rocks and while he waited for his drink, Christian looked around at the many submissives that were there looking for a Dominant. There were several that exactly fit Christian's type and his eyes bounced from one to the next, taking in their natural submissive pose, eyes downcast while waiting for a Dominant to approach them. However, Christian had not come to the club looking for a submissive, got his drink, and headed toward the rooms where you could privately take in a scene.

Christian entered the darkened room and locked the door behind him, and after seeing the action happening before him, Christian was quite pleased that he had chosen this particular room. On the other side of the one-way window, Christian watched as a naked Dominant harshly worked over the body a beautiful brown-haired sub with a whip. Blindfolded with a ball gag covering her mouth, the sub was suspended and her toes were barely touching the floor. Her petite and naked body was beautifully covered in pink welts and her head thrown back in ecstasy from the pain of the whip. Christian removed his mask and placed his drink on a table beside the only chair in the room. He then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and pulled them and his boxers down in one swift motion before sitting in the chair. Christian had not averted his eyes from the exquisite scene before him as his rock hard erection was throbbing painfully. Christian began to stroke his cock furiously as could not tear his eyes away from the subs waxed pussy or her arousal that was running down her legs. Christian had forgotten how he had justified his decision to come here and felt that this was perfect, this is right. The Dominant's cock is so hard you can see the veins protruding from it. Tossing the whip aside, the Dominant kneels down to lap the juice running down the submissives legs. Christian feels his own tongue running up and down her things and imagines the way her arousal must taste. The Dom stands up, wraps the subs legs around his waist, and pushes her against the wall before impaling her with his cock. Although he cannot hear the couple, Christian watches her mouth open in what must be a scream. Christian can feel his balls drawing up and his cum building up. Suddenly, the man withdraws from the sub, tosses her on the bed, and must order her to lay face down and he resumes fucking her and pulling her long brown hair and jerking her head back. Christian only needed to see that long brunette hair viciously jerked back for his cock to explode, groaning, and throwing his own head back. He pumps his cock until every drop of cum exits his body and his panting slows. Christian stands to pull his pants up and walks to the side of the window to get a better view of the submissive. The scene continues for quite awhile as the Dominant continues fucking this little sub. Christian is positive the Dominant must have excellent orgasm denial skills since he has lasted so long and since the sub has not had an orgasm, the Dom must be refusing to allow her to have one. Around the time Christian is bored and goes to leave, the submissive arches her back and Christian can tell she is screaming. It only takes her Dominant a few more thrusts until it is obvious he is emptying himself deep inside of her. The curtains to the window close and Christian throws his bourbon back in one swallow and leaves the room.

Christian feels the same as he did before coming to the club; he has not cheated on his wife, he has simply found a way to get off. Looking at his watch, he sees it's nearly one in the morning and places his mask back on and gets up to leave the club. For a reason he will later reflect on, instead of turning toward the club's exit, Christian heads back to the main room and sits at the bar and orders another bourbon. Scrutinizing each sub sitting along the bar, Christian's cock has hardened again. He knows that just doing this he has crossed a line and suddenly admits to himself it is a line he has often thought of crossing. There are several beautiful with long brown hair, but one, in particular, catches his eye. This sub's perfect brown hair is long and wavy like his wife's and as if he acts on natural instinct, Christian looks down at his platinum wedding ring and removes it and shoves it a front pocket of his jeans, and gets off the bar stool to make his way toward her. Christian stands beside her and appraises her perfect body. The woman's body is deliciously pale and her eyes cast down.

"You may look at me," he orders her using his commanding Dom voice. The submissive immediately complies and Christian is pleased to know that someone has trained her well. His rock hard erection presses into the zipper of his jeans when he sees her eyes are a perfect cerulean blue. "What is your name?" All thoughts of his sleeping wife in Seattle are no longer in his mind.

"Hillary, Sir," She replies softly and deferential. Her voice has Christian feeling as if he had jumped from an airplane without a parachute.

"Are you looking for a new Dom Hillary?" Christian's gray eyes have nearly darkened to black from his arousal.

"Yes, Sir." The subs voice has become low, husky, and Christian smirks underneath his mask. He knows what she wants from him.

"Would you be willing to do a scene tonight, Hillary? She lowers her eyes to the floor again before answering a quiet, "Yes, Sir."

"Then follow me." Christian turns and heads to the rooms set aside for the customers use as the submissive walks behind him, her head lowered.

They enter a dark room as the one Christian was previously in only this one is designed as a BDSM dungeon with every implement Christian could choose from. Christian's blood is coursing through his veins like fire and he cannot believe how long he has deprived himself of this. Christian never removes the mask he is wearing and turns to the beautiful woman before him. The only furniture in the room is wooden chair, a king size bed covered in plastic and a cabinet that held everything required for a scene.

"Strip, slowly, but leave on the stilettos," Christian orders her gruffly with a tone that warns her not defy him. The minute they entered this room Christian became her Dominant and she would willingly submit to him.

"Yes, Sir."

The woman's eyes are cast down as she complies with her Dominant's order. Ever so slowly, she unbuttons her low cut sheer blouse that reveals a black bra. The shirt is tied at the bottom and exposes her waist. Christian takes in her perfect tits after her shirt and bra hit the floor. He takes his time removing his clothes and can feel the palatable anticipation around them. Christian wears a wicked smirk under his mask imagining what she will think when she gets her first look at his impressive rock hard cock that is dripping with pre-cum. The sub is out of her skintight leather mini shirt that reveals she is not wearing any panties. Christian cannot wait to have his hands on her flawless pale skin.

"Tell me your last name." Christian is an expert Dominant that can speak in a menacing tone while hiding the lust in his voice.

"Miss Wilkins, Sir."

"Well, Miss Wilkins, aren't you a dirty little girl walking around without her panties? Tell me, do you enjoy flaunting your cunt?"

"Ye…Yes, Sir."

"As I thought. Keep your eyes down and turn your back to me." Her instant compliance makes Christian smile and he quickly braids her hair. "Turn around but do not look at me."

"Yes, Sir."

"What are your hard limits, Miss Wilkins?" If anyone would have said the name Anastasia, Christian would have asked, "Anastasia, who?"

"Vaginal and anal fisting, Sir." Christian could deal with those. He was standing so closely to her that he knew her downcast eyes could see his cock. Christian moved to a cabinet that held several drawers, and removed a condom and several instruments for both pleasure and pain. Stalking back to Miss Wilkins like a predator, he gets behind her to apply a blindfold and ball gag and pushes his erection in between her butt cheeks.

"Fisting of any kind are your hard limits so tell me how high your pain threshold is."

"It is very high, Sir." Christian knows he is going to really enjoy little Miss Wilkins who is pressing her thighs together tightly.

"Have you ever safe worded, Miss Wilkins?" His mouth is directly over her ear an after whispering his question, Christian slowly licks it and causes her body to shiver.

"Never, Sir."

"What are your safe words, Miss Wilkins?"

"Yellow and red, Sir."

"Remember them. Since I am going to gag you, hold this small bell and ring it twice for yellow and once for red. Repeat to me what I just said."

"You said you are going to gag me and that I am to ring the bell twice for yellow and once for red."

"Oh, Miss Wilkins. Think about whom you are speaking to and how you are to address me. How is a little sub supposed to address her Dominant?" Christian's cock just managed to get harder knowing that little Miss Wilkins just made her first infraction and will be punished. Christian's favorite thing in life is handing out a well-deserved punishment and they bring him indescribable pleasure.

"Sir. I was supposed to call you Sir." Miss Wilkins sounds contrite, but Christian recognizes how turned on she has become by the sound of her voice.

"Miss Wilkins, if I allow you to come, you are to say, 'Thank you, Sir.' Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir."

Miss Wilkins remains where she has been standing stock still for several minutes. Christian considers making her stand throughout their scene knowing how exhausting it is for the submissive and then looks at the wooden chair. Christian moves the chair close enough to her ass and pushes her on it. "I'm going to have my way with you now, Miss Wilkins," He softly tells her and he leans beside her head. Christian grabs her arms and pulls them behind her back so he can secure them with a pair of metal handcuffs. He is aware if she fights them, they will dig into her wrists painfully and leave her with beautiful red indentations. Christian covers her eyes with the blindfold, places the ball gag over her, and grins as her body tenses. Christian grabs the Jute rope and ties her ankles to the back legs of the chair. Jute rope is Christian's favorite rope because it is coarse and quite painful if you pull against it. He then spreads Miss Wilkins' thighs as far apart as they will go and ties them to the chair's front legs. Christian walks around the chair to assess how well he has bound her and stops to admire her glistening pussy that is on full display since Christian tied her thighs apart leaving her spread eagle and wide open.

"If you hadn't been flaunting that shaved cunt of yours, Miss Wilkins, I would have taken your panties and shoved them in your mouth."

Christian drops to his knees and leans closely to her right breast. He knows Miss Wilkins can feel his breath as he watches her nipples harden.

"Miss Wilkins, you are not allowed to utter one noise or move one muscle. Do. You. Understand. Me." Christian sounds menacing as he speaks to her and the gagged woman nods her head.

"You're a good little sub, even if you enjoy teasing Dom's by flaunting that cunt." He is belittling her and it is arousing him beyond measure.

Christian roughly seizes her right nipple between his thumb and finger. Slowly, deliberately, he rolls it between his fingers and then squeezes it harder, pinching it in a tight grip. He continues using his fingers on her right nipple and then takes her left nipple into his mouth, slowly licking and sucking it until biting down on it hard. Christian then switches nipples, using his teeth to pull on them and biting down on them again. Miss Wilkins has kept quiet but her body has started to tremble, causing Christian to bite down on her right nipple that is meant as a warning. Christian pulls away from her breasts and picks up the nipple clamps beside his leg. Without preamble, he applies the clamps to both nipples, smirking at her as she struggles to remain quiet and not move despite the pain. Christian tugs on the chain and watches as her nipples elongate.

"You look exquisite like this, Miss Wilkins."

Christian remains on his knees and lowers himself until his face is between her spread open thighs. He softly blows on her clit and gazes on her beautiful shaved and wet pussy. Christian uses the tip of his tongue to softly flick on her clit and watches it swell. He knows he is torturing this little sub by softly swirling his wet, hot tongue on her clit, moving it around in small gentle circles and watches as wetness begins to ooze from her pussy. Christian's tongue begins to move faster and then he begins to suck on it as Miss Wilkins begins to breathe harder. He continues sucking her until he can no longer stand the sight of her juices pouring out of her and begins lapping them up furiously until he finally thrusts his tongue inside her. Removing his tongue, Christian keeps his mouth on her pussy and growls "Don't you fucking come, Miss Wilkins. You are already in for one hell of a punishment but you now have my permission to move. But do not fucking make a sound."

Then Christian thrusts his tongue inside of her once more and begins to fuck her with it, causing Miss Wilkins to buck against her restraints. Christian smiles, knowing that the coarse rope around her ankles and thighs are hurting her. He continues thrusting his tongue into her but pulls it out only to thrust two fingers in her pussy, moving them around in circles and applying pressure to the front of her inner walls. With his free hand, he reaches up and pulls on the chain of the nipple clamps until her nipples painfully stretch. Christian begins to eat her as he fucks her with his fingers until he feels a slight quiver of her inner walls and he immediately stops, laughing aloud. Miss Wilkins is writhing in the chair and trying to push her pussy toward him.

"I felt that, Miss Wilkins and remember I said that you could not come, so control it. Do you understand what I am fucking saying?" Christian spits his words out through gritted teeth and decides to push her further to the edge to see if she can hang on to it. He inserts his two fingers back inside of her and is licking and sucking her clit until he takes one finger out and slides it into her ass. Miss Wilkins is now being finger fucked in both holes while her Dom further tortures her with his mouth on her clit. She is still complying with Christian's orders to remain quiet although she is writhing and pulling against the rope.

"My little cunt likes me to fuck her with my fingers while I suck on her clit, doesn't she? What a fucking dirty girl."

Christian watches Miss Wilkins' primal reaction as she arches her back and is trying like hell to quiet her breathing because she is afraid her Dominant will say it is considered making noise.

Christian can feel her frustration at not being able to orgasm and for his own sadistic pleasure he resumes his attempts of pushing her over the edge, only this time he is being much rougher with her. Christian does give her credit though, despite her helpless situation, Miss Wilkins has obeyed him. For Christian fucked up mind, the fact that she has obeyed him makes him suddenly stop and uses an open hand to spank her pussy so hard Miss Wilkins' writhing increases as she continues struggling with her restraints. After the sixth slap, Christian roughly thrusts three fingers deep inside of her, pulls them out, and then resumes hitting her pussy. When Christian administers his final blow, he reaches up to quickly release the nipple clamps and wears a devilish grin knowing the pleasurable pain she just experienced causes her to throw back her head and arch her back.

Christian stands up to look at Miss Wilkins and thinks it is a fucking shame she is from the East coast since she seems like a perfect submissive. He looks around the room and quickly decides what to do next. Christian unties her ankles and thighs and unlocks the handcuffs, and throws them on the bed. She remains gagged and blindfolded so Christian leads her to the plastic covered bed.

"Lay on your stomach." Christian is very impressed at the way Miss Wilkins immediately follows his orders and can see someone trained her well. Christian puts the handcuffs back on her wrists to restrain her arms around her back and double checks that she is still holding onto the bell. He then gets more rope and pulls her body down until he is able to tie her ankles to the bedposts. He grabs her by the hips to lift her ass in the air, lubes a rather large butt plug, and inserts it deep inside her. Her body tenses, but her breathing tells him she is looking forward to whatever he has in store for her, pain, or pleasure. Christian then grabs a vibrating dildo and lubricates it, watching it slide into Miss Wilkins' pussy. Christian chuckles when he turns it on and watches her body practically come off the bed.

"That's a good girl, Miss Wilkins. I am going to turn the vibration on high so I know your pussy is quivering for me to fuck you. You no longer have to remain quiet and move, but you are not to come, Miss Wilkins. Do you understand? Nod once if you understand me." She nods once and Christian is grinning while he turns the vibrator on high and listens to her moaning uncontrollably.

Christian looks around the room's walls for something to punish Miss Wilkins with and picks out a cane that he swings out in front of him. Christian closes his eyes at the very sound of it; it is like hearing the voice of a long lost friend. He looks at the beautiful sight on the bed before him and knows if he does not fuck her soon his balls are going to explode. He does not remember a time in his life that his cock has ever been this hard or he has ever wanted a woman this badly. Christian is holds the cane in one hand and begins to stroke his long cock with the other while he watches and listens as Miss Wilkins is coming undone on the bed from the vibrator in her pussy. He continues stroking himself as he walks back to the bed and pictures the glorious way he is about to make her skin look. Letting go of his cock, he once again bends directly into her ear. "That pussy spanking you got wasn't your punishment, Miss Wilkins. I am going to cane you twenty times for your infraction of not calling me Sir. Nod if you understand why you're to be punished." She nods again while her body trembles and her breathing shallow. Christian can read the bodies of these little masochistic girls and he knew her pleasurable moaning and groaning were coming from the enjoyment she was experiencing not being able to come. At the mention of the cane, Christian watched the anticipation of pain only increase her panting and attempts to writhe although restrained. He is surprised her ankles are not bleeding since she has pulled against that coarse rope for so long.

Christian's mind calms as it digs into his psyche where he punishes little girls who break his rules. The pleasure and excitement this gives Christian is nearly enough for him to blow his load all over this subs back. He starts running a hand from the middle of her back all the way to her upper thighs. They are about to be a breathtaking pink with raised red welts. Exactly what Miss Wilkins came here for and exactly what she is going to get.

"Since you are gagged and can't count each strike, I will do it for you. Remember the bell you are holding in case you need to safe word. To reiterate why you are being punished, you failed to address your Dom as 'Sir'. Nod twice if you understand everything I said." Christian brings down the cane the minute she nods her head and between clenched teeth he grits out each blow until he reaches twenty. Once he properly punished this sub, his mind switches from inflicting pain upon her to his own sexual pleasure and drops the cane.

Christian gets on the bed, turns off the vibrating dildo, and suddenly jerks it out of Miss Wilkins and wickedly smiles as she nearly orgasms from it. Before the dildo has a chance to hit the floor, Christian puts on the condom and slams his cock balls deep inside of her. Christian slowly pulls his cock out, quickly removes the ball gag, and then slams into her again. He falls in love with the tight, wet pussy that he was positive she had. He twists her braided hair around his wrist and pulls it roughly.

"You may come, Miss Wilkins. I want to hear the way you sound as you come while I am fucking you hard. Do you understand me?" He jerks her braid harder to make his point.

"Yes, yes…oh…Sir. I… understand," She replies while panting through a drawn out moan.

He starts fucking her so hard that her body is jerking forward, her ankle restraints are cutting into her skin, and she is screaming incoherently. Christian thrusts increase in speed and aggressiveness and within a matter of seconds, he feels Miss Wilkins pussy clench onto his cock and spasms around him as she screams through the orgasm that overtakes her. Christian pounds into her at a more furious pace and she does her best to lift her ass up so he can get his cock in farther. He feels her walls as they once again start quivering and he reaches around to rub her clit. Miss Wilkins orgasms yet again, crying out, and moaning as she struggles against her restraints as her body shakes violently.

"That's a good girl, Miss Wilkins. Just lay there and take this hard fuck I'm giving your cunt." Christian's voice is hoarse and he is breathing harder but he never breaks the violent rhythm that has this little brown haired woman writhing underneath him as she moans and continues fighting her restraints. Christian knows about orgasm denial due to years with Elena, so he could continue fucking this young woman until she passes out. Sweat is pouring off of him and rolling from underneath the mask, and with one hand, he pulls on Miss Wilkins braid, sticks the thumb of his other hand in her ass, and moves it in and out harshly, causing her to throw her head back and scream even louder than she already was.

Once again, he feels a vice like grip on his cock and Miss Wilkins is making a noise that sounds more like a growl. Christian knows she is rapidly approaching her third orgasm but he refuses to allow her to have one. Knowing he is about to come, he decides to be especially cruel by thrusting into her faster and reaches around to her clit and pinches it and will not let go. Miss Wilkins is panting and moaning and Christian realizes she is about to fall off the edge, so he impales her with two more violent thrusts and then explodes inside of her. She does not hide her frustration as she keeps raising up her ass for a thrust of his cock but Christian quickly pulls out of her, gets off the bed, pulls the condom off, and tosses it into the garbage. Christian unties her raw ankles, and rubs them for her. Miss Wilkins pulled against the coarse rope for so long it has caused red marks and rope burn around her ankles.

"Did my little cunt flaunting sub like my big cock fucking her?" Christian sneers at her. Tonight he feels like punishing Miss Wilkins with verbal humiliation.

As if a man who has been lost in a desert and has finally found himself water, Christian's return to his past of BDSM is long from over. He is already searching the room and deciding what to do with little Miss Wilkins next. She is still lying face down on the bed, her head turned toward the wall, and her hair saturated with sweat. Christian glanced at her prone body and thought she looks a lot like Anastasia does when she is lying in their bed. Anastasia. Christian's stomach drops and he looks away from the sub. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he suddenly wakes up from his surroundings and he cannot fathom that he had believed he would be able to walk into a BDSM club to 'just watch a scene' and just be able to leave. He knew the little thoughts of his previous lifestyle had been sporadically popping up in his head, but he would always have Anastasia to keep them at bay. He should have fucking forced her to come on this trip with him and none of this would have happened.

Christian has forgotten all about Miss Wilkins lying on the bed with her arms still restrained with handcuffs behind her back. Christian is pulling at his hair with both hands. He is in agony over what he has just done to his wife and his marriage and if he were capable of tears, Christian would be crying. Why, oh, why had Anastasia not put him first and just came to New York with him? Anastasia has just forced him to break his marriage vows and has placed him in a vulnerable position to fully return to this shit way of life. Fucking hell. He thought he had found the only angel left on this planet and she would protect him with her goodness. Could she not see that he is not capable of living a nice and normal life free from the despicable acts that happen in rooms of a club like this? Christian can feel anger rising inside of him as he thinks of how his wife had let him down. It is the same form of anger that his birth mother left him to feel and now Anastasia was just like her. He had taken her hand and followed the light, even bringing him back to his family. However, where is she now? Where is Anastasia's hand and her light at now? It is across the country asleep in a comfortable bed, probably dreaming of rescuing cats from trees and he has just had a hard-core BDSM scene in a BDSM club where he just beat the shit out of her look-alike with a cane. She vowed in front of their friends and family to give him comfort and care for his every need, yet she had not done that. They are both complete failures. Anastasia failed at being a good person and turning Christian into a good person.

Christian picked up the ropes and threw them in the Biohazard trash that each room now had. Christian scoffed at the irony of such an idea in a place like this and tossed the toys he used on Miss Wilkins in the sink where the club attendants would clean them. He walked to the bed and although Christian was burning with rage directed at his wife, he gently helped Miss Wilkins up. He must have been in deep thought for a while because from the looks of it, she had fallen asleep. Christian smirked at himself and thought he must have worn her out and then felt a painful blow to the stomach as if Anastasia had just punched him for thinking that way. A naked Miss Wilkins is sitting on the edge of the bed with her arms still restrained and eyes on the floor. Christian removes the blindfold and gently massages her shoulders and neck silently cursing the woman he married and the fact she had not fixed shit about his sick ass. Now he has spent hours in Sodom and Gomorrah, first with his fucking pants pulled down jacking it while watching a Dom and his sub. After that, he apparently lost all sense of reason, went into the club, got a sub, fucked, and punished her. The cherry on that pile of shit is knowing he had chosen her because she resembles his wife. So here, he is, Christian Grey, a married man completely naked with a mask on his face to protect his identity and he is doing aftercare on some sub he just committed adultery with. His parents would be so proud and Elena would be laughing and telling him that she told him so. It appears as if he should have listened to his friend.

"Miss Wilkins, you may look at me." Christian sounds resigned and pissed off and he picks up the key to the handcuffs to free her wrists.

"Thank you, Sir."

Christian glanced at her face as he begins to tell her to turn around so he can unlock the handcuffs. That one quick glance was straight in Miss Wilkins eyes. He had forgotten they were a perfect cerulean blue and made her resemble Anastasia even more. She is looking up at him expectantly and the fact Christian feels as though he is looking at his wife, his anger is burning into a rage as he remembers how she pushed him back down this path. He knows the only thing Miss Wilkins can see are his gray eyes that are surely clouded by anger and as much as Christian knows of submissive minds, he knows that Miss Wilkins is being aroused as she stares into his angry eyes. Christian recognized that this little brown haired girl liked pain. His was on the inside and hers the outside and the more rage he felt toward Anastasia, has made Christian reconsider if he wants to take off her handcuffs or have another scene. This was the first time since that night in February where he really felt like punishing his wife, but she was not here for him to do it. Who was here was an Anastasia look alike. A beautiful and petite brown-haired woman. A woman who had perfectly pale skin and blue eyes like his wife. As Christian continued to bore his eyes into those of this submissive, he knew she was letting him know she did not want to leave this room just yet. Christian's decision was not even a decision; it was more of a reaction as he realized his cock was hard as a rock and pointing directly at Miss Wilkins.

"Stand up and look down, Miss Wilkins." Christian the Dominant orders her. He wonders how much of his anger is going to decorate the skin of Miss Wilkins. In addition, with a wicked smile he hopes she does do something and fuck up so he can beat the shit out of her.

Just as a well trained submissive, she does so immediately, but Christian expected her to verbally acknowledge him and show him the respect he deserved as her Dominant.

"Did I fuck away your voice or did you just ignore what I said you fucking cunt." Christian's voice is low, but his words are sadistic. Her body language indicated that he had intimidated her and that pleased Christian in a manner that was very dark and disturbing.

"No, Sir. I didn't mean to appear as though I was ignoring you, Sir."

"Miss Wilkins, you have just earned another punishment. What can I do with a little slut like you?" His belittlement punishment felt good, so good he was going to use while he physically punished Miss Wilkins.

"Whatever you see fit, Sir." Miss Wilkins sounds meek, but Christian thinks he heard excited anticipation in her words. A true masochist, he thought.

"Are you still enjoying that butt plug I shoved up your ass, Miss Wilkins?" Christian wants her anticipation mixed with arousal and some fear.

"Very much so, Sir."

Christian looks up to the suspension cuff and bar set and decides to have her hanging helplessly from it.

"Remove your shoes. Now you slut." The darker Dominant inside of Christian has come out to play and this time he is going to push little Miss Wilkins and find out how far she can go. Christian watches as she turns from him and bends over to kick off her shoes and knows she only did it to give him a direct view between her legs. He shakes his head at her knowing what she is in for.

"Stand underneath the suspension bar so I can put on the leather cuffs that attach to the bar. Have you ever been suspended? I'm sure a slut like you has been." Christian does not even need to pay attention as he places the fur lined leather cuffs on Miss Wilkins. Christian takes a moment to stroke his cock, admiring the perfection of her body suspended before him, her toes barely touching the floor.

"Yes, Sir, I have been."

"I'm going to tear that butt plug right out of you, Miss Wilkins. I can think of something a hell of a lot bigger to ram into your ass and you are going to take every inch I pound into it." Christian places his finger inside her to remove it and her body shivers, leaving goose bumps all over her body. After removing it, he goes to the sink, tosses it in, and goes to the cabinet for another condom.

Christian circles her suspended body trying to decide on a proper punishment. One harsh enough that Anastasia will feel while she dreams of fucking kitty cats and unicorns.

"You look lovely hanging like that, Miss Wilkins." Christian growls at her.

"Thank you, Sir." Christian does not imagine anything as lovely as looking upon a woman in a perfect submissive pose, her eyes on the floor and obeying his every order, and about to have the shit beat out of her.

"Miss Wilkins, you know I have to punish you now. Can you tell me why you deserve to be punished?"

"Yes, Sir. As your submissive I failed to acknowledge your order or show you respect by referring to you as Sir."

"That's a good cunt." Christian has moved behind her and is holding a leather belt. Before he starts to punish her, he notices that she is already so aroused that she is drenched and it is starting to run down her thighs. Christian reaches down, uses two fingers to wipe it off with, and then shoves his fingers in her mouth. "Suck," he orders and she greedily sucks her own taste on his fingers. Christian cannot resist thrusting his fingers in her wet pussy before bringing the belt on her. Miss Wilkins lets out a little moan when Christian roughly thrusts three fingers in her pussy and pumps them several times making her head fall back. As suddenly as he inserted them, he jerks his fingers out and smears them down her back.

"Miss Wilkins, I'm going to punish you with a belt. I am going to give you twenty lashes and after each one, you are to say 'Thank you, Sir.' Do you understand me?" Christian grins at the way the tips of her toes barely touch the floor and he walks closer to her.

"Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir."

"Just like I understand that you not only enjoy my physically punishing you, Miss Wilkins, it's obvious from your drenched cunt that you also enjoy hearing me belittle you. Is that correct, Miss Wilkins? Does that make you wet for me?"

"Yes, Sir. It does, Sir," Miss Wilkins replies in a breathless turned on voice. Christian chooses to ignore her.

Christian goes back to that place in his mind where he finds the arousal and joy of being able to beat the shit out of these little brown-haired subs. He slowly rises up his arm and brings the belt down with as much force as he can so it sharply lands on the bottom of Miss Wilkins ass and the tops of her thighs. Christian closed his eyes at the wonderful sound the belt made as it landed on her flesh and the low moan he heard coming from her. Christian would be more turned on if those moans were from his failure of a wife.

"Thank you, Sir." Miss Wilkins pants from her want of the pain Christian is launching on her.

Christian wields the belt with adept and masterful blows. He delivers the other nineteen blows with every bit of his strength and imagines this woman is Anastasia. Sometimes he purposely avoided her ass and struck her on the back and up and down her legs, but Miss Wilkins did as she had been ordered and thanked him for every blow. She is loudly moaning and writhing from the pain, her arousal gloriously displayed on her thighs. After he punishes her, Christian removes her from the suspension bar, but is in no way done with her and from looking at her glistening pussy; she does not want him to be.

"Be a good cunt and wrap your hand around this big cock of mine. Do it now." If Christian gritted his teeth much harder, they would break into bits.

"Yes, Sir." Miss Wilkins grabs Christian's cock and holds it in her hand.

"That's what I'm going to pound into your ass, Miss Wilkins. What do you think about that? Remember how this big cock pounded your pussy? Well, that's what I'm about to do to your tiny asshole."

"Yes, Sir. I look forward to that, Sir." Her reply makes Christian laugh loudly.

"Well, even if you didn't you cunt, I'd still fuck you with it."

"Yes, Sir."

"Bend over and place your hands on the floor." Christian has ordered her into an uncomfortable position for a reason. He then gets onto his knees and waits for her response.

"Yes, Sir." Miss Wilkins quickly complies, her ass in Christian's face.

"Keep your balance, Miss Wilkins and do not move a fucking inch." Christian's anger evident in his voice.

"Yes, Sir." Christian does not miss that her voice is evidence that she is turned on by his obvious anger. Another sign of a true masochist he muses.

Once she addresses him properly, Christian buries his face in her pussy and gently flicks his tongue on her clit that elicits a moaning whimper from the woman before him. He keeps flicking his tongue in a gentle but torturous fashion and Miss Wilkins whimpers. Her moans grow louder, but she still has not moved. Christian's tongue applies more pressure on her clit and he slowly licks it in a circular motion. He then sucks on it harshly and causes Miss Wilkins to cry out loudly and her chest begins to heave. Christian alternates licking and sucking her clit and begins biting it as the room is filled with her frantic moans. He finally shoves his entire tongue into her pussy and begins to fuck her with it, causing the woman to let out a full-fledged scream. Christian pulls his mouth away and in a menacing tone says, "Do. Not. Come., "

Miss Wilkins replies in a shaky voice, "Yes, Sir."

Christian then shoves his tongue back inside her and begins to lick her front to back, licking, and rolling his tongue along her ass. He pushes two fingers in her pussy, pulls them out, and smears her glistening wetness over her asshole. He tries to get her to move by continuing his oral assault on her ass and pussy. Quite impressively, she does not move an inch and Christian's rock hard erection is ready to fuck. He stands up and tears open the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolls the condom on his cock.

"I'm going to fuck you in the ass now, Miss Wilkins. Be a good girl and remain exactly as you are while I ram my big cock into you."

"Yes, Sir." Her answer is a desperate moan. Miss Wilkins' complete submission has made Christian's cock to throb.

Christian once again lubricates her asshole with her pussy juice that is oozing out of her and he positions himself at her entrance.

"Get ready, Miss Wilkins. I am going to be quite rough with you, but I think that's what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes, Sir, please, Sir."

Her begging pleases Christian immensely. "Ah, little Miss Wilkins, that's right. Beg me for it. Beg me, again, you dirty whore."

"Yes, Sir. Please fuck my ass, Sir. I want your big cock in my ass, Sir." Christian rational mind finds her words disgusting but his body and cock are betraying him.

Christian slams his large cock into her with a force that makes her scream out in pleasure. The violent force that Christian used nearly sent the beautiful brown-haired woman flying forward and he grabbed hold of her hips. He holds onto her hips and begins fucking her ass so hard he hears his balls loudly slapping her against her ass. Miss Wilkins is moaning from deep in her throat and crying out with each of Christian's ferocious thrusts. He is fucking her in the same hard rhythm as before and has deliriously lost himself pounding his huge cock inside her tiny and tight little ass. Christian digs his fingers into Miss Wilkins hips and she throws her head back. He is vaguely aware of her loud cries, but he is very aware she is enjoying every vicious slam. The anger he feels at his wife spurs him on to fuck this sub harder than he has fucked another woman and looking at Miss Wilkins back, Christian admires the pretty design he gave her with each biting blow of the belt. Christian then pictures Anastasia's back looking the same, but squeezes his eyes closed at the thought because he knows it was sick, but his anger pushes his thoughts away. Just the thought of his wife's name makes him pull his cock out a little so he can ram it back harder. This thrust causes Miss Wilkins to lose her balance and Christian cannot hold her up because they are both slick with sweat. Luckily, she is within reach of the chair and grabs a hold of the back of it to keep from falling. Now that she's holding onto to something, Christian is able to lift one of her legs, allowing his cock to go even deeper into her ass. At this point, a shaking Miss Wilkins is keening and Christian knows that she is waiting for his permission to come, but he will not give it. There are two women living inside his head who need to be punished in a vicious and cruel manner and Christian gives it to them imagining this punishment fuck is to their ass. Maybe until they bleed. Unfortunately, they aren't here to take his wrath, but little Miss Wilkins is and he's watching her take the pain like the good little sub she is and even wants more of him.

"Put the leg I'm holding on the chair," Christian grunts out. He has been ramming into her for at least fifteen minutes and despite sounding exhausted, Christian is far from letting himself go. Alternatively, he is far from letting go of the desire to punish those that deserve to be punished. Christian is pleased with the orgasm denial he was taught by Elena's expert tutelage. It is all about self-control she told him. It is why Christian is still fucking Miss Wilkins fast and furiously and nowhere near ready to stop.

Miss Wilkins is barely able to utter the reply, "Yes, Sir." Her panting is shallow and her body is violently quivering.

Once she's able to raise her trembling leg on the chair, Christian reaches around to find her clit and pinches it hard as he continues to pound into her, his breathing is labored and hard, his body covered in sweat and pouring underneath the mask. Christian feels Miss Wilkins legs tremble from standing so long and listens as she loudly moans and cries out. Christian knows she must be overwhelmed with pleasure and frustration from not having his permission to come. Christian pinches her clit painfully and finally gives her permission to come immediately, Christian feels the quiver of her impending orgasm, the orgasm that brings a heavenly tightness only an ass fucking can give you. Miss Wilkins has clamped onto his cock and he feels as if her ass will never let go. She screams louder than she has all night as she continues to come as Christian prolongs her orgasm by fucking her as hard as he can and painfully twisting her clit between two of his fingers that nearly brings her to her knees. Christian cannot recall any of his former subs tolerating such a punishing ass fucking and he knows he will have to find a way to keep little Miss Wilkins.

"Thank you, for letting me come, Sir," Miss Wilkins exhaustion exuding with each word.

Christian ignores her and tires of the game he had played with her. He continues his almost torturous pounding to Miss Wilkins, who has her head thrown back and emitting animalistic cries throughout the room. Christian is finally ready to let himself go, and once again, he painfully twists the brown-haired woman's clit causing her to cry out again. With one more forceful thrust and hearing her cry of pain, Christian allows himself to reach an intense climax that nearly blinds him as he feels his balls filling her up. As soon as he has come, Christian quickly pulls out of her and watches Miss Wilkins remain in the position he had ordered her in. Her pants are slowing as her body slowly stops to quiver although her legs continue to tremble due to the exhaustion from standing so long.

"You may get up now, Miss Wilkins," Christian says with a smirk under his mask that is wet from his pouring sweat. Watching her struggle to stand, Christian helps her walk to the bed.

"Thank you, Sir."

"You can look up now, Miss Wilkins. Our scene is over."

"Yes, Sir." Once again, her beautiful blue eyes are shining up at him.

"I assume you know the shower is behind that door in the corner. I'll have mine first and once you're done with yours, I'd like to offer you a proposition."

Christian does not wait for a reply, picks up his clothes, and stalks off into the small shower room. When he is done showering, Christian pulls his jeans up and feels his wedding ring in his pocket. If there was a mirror in the room, he knew if he looked into it, he would see a face of pure disgust. Christian slips the mask back on before leaving the room.

After both are both showered and recovered from their marathon scene, Christian has her sit in the wooden chair and puts on his CEO persona. Hillary Wilkins now looks and speaks confidently and Christian is pleased she is not a mindless airhead.

"Hillary, I trust you're from this area?"

"Yes, I live in Brooklyn." Christian stares at her as he contemplates on how to turn her into his latest acquisition.

"How old are you and what is your occupation?"

Hillary Wilkins furrows her brow and appears confused but curious.

"I'm twenty-one and a recent graduate of Sarah Lawrence. I'm still looking for permanent employment, but for now I am a substitute teacher at a local pre-school."

Sarah Lawrence, Christian thinks. Impressive. "If you don't have a full-time job may I inquire as to where you live?" Christian is beginning to think that Hillary Wilkins could easily be persuaded to relocate.

"I moved back in with my parents after I graduated college." Even better.

"You're only twenty-one but are clearly an experienced sub. How long have you been into the lifestyle?" Her youth and the way she gave him full submission fascinates Christian.

"Since I was a freshman in college. I met a guy who was into the scene and took me to various clubs."

"I hate to seem as if I'm interrogating you and I assure you that I'm asking these questions for a purpose. Have you ever been a contracted sub or do you only play at clubs?"

"Both. I've had 3 contractual relationships."

Christian cannot believe his luck, but he knows this might be a hard sell.

"Hillary, I would very much like to contract you as my submissive. The only catch is that I live three-thousand miles away and since I am wearing a mask, I assume you realize that is to keep my BDSM lifestyle hidden. Would you be interested in looking at my standard contract as well as our mutual hard and soft limits? I can also offer you a contract that will guarantee you receive many benefits."

"Three-thousand miles away? What state? What city?"

"Seattle, Washington. We can meet tomorrow and I will have all the paperwork for you to go over. Is this something you'd be interested in doing?"

Christian is scrutinizing Hillary's face and finally finds that she has worked out that he must be someone of stature and perhaps a lot of money. She smiles at him.

"Yes, I'd be willing to meet you and see what you have to offer. How will we contact one another so I will know where to meet you?"

"You don't have to worry about that. I will handle it. Now, we had better be going. It's very late and the club is probably close to closing up shop."

Hillary appears perplexed at Christian's words concerning how he would get her contact information but stands as he opens the door for her as they leave.

"I will speak with you in the morning, Hillary. It's been a pleasure."

With that, Christian turned around, made his way outside, and called Welch for an immediate background check on one Hillary Wilkins of Brooklyn, NY. The closer he gets to the SUV, Christian looks at the impassive and bored expression on Taylor's face but does not mistake the anger in his eyes. Taylor steps out to open the door for Christian without looking at him and they head back to Christian's apartment in complete silence.

Back at his penthouse, Christian fires off an email to Ros telling her to either reschedule their morning meeting or just go without him. He then digs through his computer documents and finds the hidden folders containing an NDA, the contract and the copies of his soft and hard limits. He then draws up an incentive contract for Miss Wilkins to sweeten the deal and make it so appealing only a fool would turn it down. Christian then completes each document and prints them all off. Minutes later, his phone alerts him to an email from Welch and contains the background check on Hillary Wilkins. Christian adds her phone number and email address to the contact list in his telephone and then begins to undress and get into bed. When he goes to remove his jeans, Christian hears something hit the wood floor and sees it is the platinum wedding band Anastasia placed on his finger just several months prior. Christian lies back on the bed and holds the band in the air above him. He looks at the band and then over to the bedside table where he has placed the stack of papers to be given to Miss Wilkins. Christian places his wedding ring on his chest and is awash with guilt and disgust. He should have never thought he could be a man that could marry a nice woman, settle down with her, and raise a family. Christian knows he has the mind and the soul of a human being that cannot be straightened out, but for some deluded reason Christian thought Anastasia was capable of doing it. He also knows that his anger had been irrational and he used it to justify his actions and laying the blame at Anastasia's feet. From the blackest shadows that had hidden away in Christian's mind, he finally opened his eyes to the fact he did not deserve love or Anastasia's devotion. He was sick and twisted and should have stuck with like-minded people. Yet Anastasia Steele entered his life and Christian was drawn to her unlike any other in his life. She intrigued and confounded him the night she quietly calmed the beast within him and softly kissed his lips. Tonight he had broken his vows and would go back to Seattle spewing lies through broken teeth. Christian knew he would eventually break his wife's spirit and wanted to do anything he could to spare her. Christian's eyes began to close and he fell asleep as the sun began to rise.

Four hours later, Christian was in his office holding the contract and other papers he was going to give Hillary Wilkins. He was waging a war within himself over this decision and carrying guilt on his shoulders heavy enough to knock him down. Christian could not believe the ridiculous excuses he gave himself last night so he would walk guilt free into that club. What sort of a man could he be that he used an outrageous reason of going into a BDSM club in order to jack himself off? Christian wanted someone to punch him in the face due to his stupidity. The stupidity that let him slide back down into a black pit of tar and vile behavior, knowing he was married to a woman of near perfection. Christian hated himself for breaking every vow he made to her and realized how stupid he was for doing so. He knew every dark shade that covered his soul and no matter the amount of light that Anastasia gave him was going to change that. Christian cringed as he remembered all those horrible thoughts he had had of his wife last night, each one a pathetic shield to cover his guilt. It was true that he had betrayed his wife and he knew it would kill her to find out. However, she was none the wiser and he could go home to her and sweep his indiscretion under the rug. However, last night had lit a fuse inside Christian and he was still feeling the way it burned and imagined how he could have the best of both worlds. Christian knew that Anastasia had covered up all of his dirtiest secrets and the parts of him that others did not know existed. He owed her love and compassion and to give her a life of happiness. As much as he wanted to be a happy man that lived under an umbrella of a loving woman's touch, Christian knew he would forever crave the touch of another type of woman. A woman that could remain nameless while he fucked her mouth. A woman he could simply ply with money or jewelry and have her full submission. Christian was a dirty man with a ravaged soul and an empty space where a heart should be. Yes, he had obliterated his promises and marriage vows to Anastasia last night and his guilt was overwhelming him. At the same time, Christian remembered what he had done last night, what he had enjoyed, and the ultimate control he had regained from it. He knew his life was at a crossroad and did not know which path to take.

Christian finally chose which path to take and several hours later, I an old office building that GEH owned, Reynolds escorted Hillary Wilkins into a rather large conference room where she had to read and sign the NDA before she could meet Christian Grey. Christian watched her arrive from an upper floor window and realized the consequences of what he was about to do. He had sat alone in his office for two hours fighting a losing battle of wanting to continue being a good husband that Anastasia deserved. However, Christian's inner urges and memories of so many years of feeling ultimate control and pleasure led him to where he is currently standing. The real Christian was back. Not Anastasia's Christian, but Christian Grey the Dominant. Therefore, the Dominant in Christian stood and waited for yet another petite brown-haired woman to sign on the dotted line. Christian knew it was wrong and sinful, but it still felt so right.

Christian was sitting behind an older desk that had been left in the old building years earlier and watched Hillary Wilkins enter the room. He could clearly see how much she really did resemble Anastasia now that her face was no longer shrouded by darkness. She was dressed quite conservatively in a simple white dress covered in small red flowers and approached Christian confidently and shook his outstretched hand.

"Please sit, Hillary. You look lovely." Christian's eyes were all over her face and then he looked at her chest and remembered how large and perfect her breasts were.

"Thank you, Mr.…?"

"Pardon me for not introducing myself first. I am Christian Grey. I must admit you look more beautiful now that I'm no longer wearing that mask." He smiled at her laugh.

"I'll also admit I'm glad you're not wearing it. They can be quite creepy at times."

"I'm sure they can be. Let's not waste our time, so would you like to go over the documents I have for you?" Christian has them in his hands and walks in front of her, leaning back on the desk. Miss Wilkins nods and takes the papers and reads each one carefully. Several minutes pass until she has finished reading each one.

"Mr. Grey, you want me to move to Seattle in order for me to be your submissive?" Christian merely nods.

"I see your wedding ring and this contract and other documents mention your marital status and that you're wife doesn't know about your…interests."

"That's an accurate description of the situation."

"She isn't in the lifestyle?"

"That's none of your concern."

"That is true, but of your rules is a one sided monogamy clause. I am to remain monogamous to you, yet you are married and state in the clause that you will not be monogamous to me. I find that highly unfair."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, but as a married man I will still engage in sexual relations with my wife. If you sign that contract you are agreeing to fully submit to me and do as I order you to, which is that you won't be fucking anyone but me."

Christian nearly laughs at her. She is clearly not pleased.

"I can comply and agree with your rules; I'm an avid runner and do yoga three times a week. My stamina is up to par." Little Miss Wilkins is smirking at him. Christian grins, as he knows what she's referring to.

"I agree your stamina was quite impressive. Now let us talk about my proposal. After reading through each document, tell me what you think."

"I'd most certainly be a liar if I said that I would mind someone to buy me an expensive condominium and place my name on the deed. The amount of money you're offering me would help me tremendously and I've always liked Audi's." Something about her confident smile is making Christian's cock twitch.

"Your reply makes it obvious you no longer give a fuck about my marital status or that I'll be fucking my wife."

Hillary laughs but does not reply. Christian has his answer.

"Do you agree to my standard contract being three months and we can always negotiate if we want to extend it?"

"I see no problem with that. I have read all your limits and you know mine, so that is cleared up. I also have my latest health records for you to keep. I am wondering when you would want me to relocate to Seattle."

Christian can feel himself already reeling her into the boat.

"I'd like you in Seattle in the next week or so. I purchase you a place to live in a matter of days and have it furnished as well as getting everything else in order. Once all of that is taken care of, I will send my jet to fly you to Seattle and you can settle in."

"That sounds fine. Besides my clothes, the only thing I'll be bringing is my cat."

Christian cannot keep a wicked grin off his face when she says that. "Which pussy, I meant, cat are you referring to?"

"Tsk, tsk Mr. Grey. What a dirty mind you must have. Her name is Annie and she's a Siamese."

Annie. What Ray calls Anastasia. Christian just felt as if someone poured cold water over his head. Anastasia. I have a wife named Anastasia Rose Grey. I have a wife. I have a wife and this is wrong. Christian has closed his eyes and is pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Mr. Grey?"

"Oh, yes..."

"You zoned out on me." Christian decides that Hillary Wilkins' laugh is grating on him. He knows it is Anastasia's laugh that he is listening to.

"Sorry, thinking of making my flight back to Seattle. So, what have you decided?"

"I have another question. Will we have scenes at a club or do you have a place."

Her words took Christian back to last night and his cock starts to harden. "I will convert a room in your condo that will serve as our playroom and I will come there. That's another reason you won't come to Seattle for a week or so." It suddenly occurs to Christian that once he is done with Miss Wilkins he can keep the condominium and use that playroom for future subs.

"A playroom? As in a dungeon?" The word dungeon has always amused Christian, who laughs loudly.

"Trust me, BDSM is meant for a playroom, not some dungeon that makes me think of medieval torture. I assure you the playroom will be far beyond your expectations."

"That intrigues me, Mr. Grey." Christian watches her toss her long brown hair over her shoulder and he wants to wrap it around his hand and pull on it painfully.

"Well, that leaves us with just going over the paperwork and signing it, Hillary."

She licks her lips and Christian wonders if he'll have time to bend her over the desk and fuck her after she signs the contract. He looks at his watch and silently curses himself that he doesn't have enough time.

"Do you have a pen, Mr. Grey?

_A/N_

_Did it take a year to read? _

_There was no point to write about the next three women since each scenario would have been the same. _

_Think of this chapter as an explanation and a description of how someone used to be while the previous chapter was a description of how a person is now. _

_Sorry the chapter was so long. The next one we get back to Ana and leave Christian's sick ass alone. _

_P.S. All mistakes in this chapter can kiss my ass. I have been in a hospital room for days, I am exhausted, and I have had a death in my immediate family. Do not write me and point out how or what I have written incorrectly. _


	17. Chapter 17

All rights to the characters and story of FSoG belong to E. L. James.

_**Prelude**_

_**Monday, April 13**__**th**__**, 2015**_

_Washington, D.C._

_Luke's POV_

The constant shaking of my left shoulder and a voice repeatedly saying my name has roused me awake, but I refuse to open my eyes. Luke becomes a window-shattering shriek, and I can hear the curtains opening and feel the warm, morning sunshine on my face. The shoulder shaking turns into a finger being jammed into my chest and the shouts of my name are like a ringing church bell in my skull. Rolling face down on the bed, I pull a pillow over my head.

When I have reached the point of snapping Ana's neck, I roll over, tossing the pillow and find her face inches from mine. She looks irritated as hell with her hands on her hips. She is wearing a pencil skirt and a black blouse. I wonder if she is heading to that publishing conference.

"Finally! Do you have any idea how long I have been trying to wake your ass up? It is nearly eight-thirty and we have shit to do. Get the fuck up, Luke."

If she was not so damn small and pretty I would body slam her.

"Ana, if you wanted me awake at the ass crack of dawn you wouldn't have kept me up all night working on this shit. I seem to remember your ass fell asleep around midnight and I didn't hit the sheets until three-thirty. Excuse me for telling you to kiss my ass."

She is wearing a scowl and glaring at me. I can tell she feels guilty for falling asleep on me.

"Make a girl feel guilty why don't you? Do you need more sleep? You won't be any use to me if you've only had four hours of sleep."

Already wide-awake, I get out of bed and give her a look that screams fuck you. Ana stands there looking guilty.

"Do you feel better now, Ana? ' Miss I have got to have my way."

She rolls her eyes at me and before I point it out, I remember how Grey is always on her ass for it.

"Well, now that you have made me feel guilty my enthusiasm has waned. I am just excited at what we are doing today and…"

Ana looks bemused at the finger I have pointed at her.

"Ana, we have had this discussion for nearly a week. We came to D.C. out of necessity, and only from the fortune that a prestigious publishing conference is here, and at a perfect time."

Ana's blue eyes look straight into mine as she opens and shuts her mouth a few times but I shake my head before she has the chance to argue.

"Therefore, you can head down to that conference or visit Obama. The one thing you will not be a part of is anything pertaining to why we are actually here."

She sighs loudly and wraps her arms around her body. I can tell that she knows what I am saying is the truth, but she suddenly looks vulnerable.

"I have explained the drill to you multiple times and you are smart enough to understand what I have told you." I do my best to keep an even tone that does not sound condescending; I know she is struggling with the idea of being left out and not being privy to every detail.

Ana looks everywhere but me and acknowledges me with a nod.

"I am going to take a shower. Have you already eaten?'

Fuck, now I sound like Grey and the way Ana looks at me proves it.

"Please, Luke. I have been forced fed by Christian for three fucking years. I waited for you before ordering breakfast, so what do you want to eat?"

I hear her voice waiver when she says Grey's name and the reminder of how fresh Ana's heartbreak is hitting me hard. My own anger at Grey and Taylor have blocked my view of Ana's wounds that must be wide open and bleeding profusely. I feel like a shit.

"As long as I get coffee, I do not really care what you order us and make yourself useful while I am in the shower by making sure that laptop and the burner phones are fully charged. Those are two things you can do that will make my life easier."

That comment garners another famous Ana Grey eye roll. I have always found it endearing and never understood why it pisses Grey off.

"I think my 4.0 GPA can handle that, Captain. Go wash your ass," Ana replies and bursts into a fit of giggles.

Ignoring her, I make my way into the adjoining bedroom and head to the bathroom to take a scalding shower. I stand underneath the water and think about what Ana must be going through. She has not had time to process this clusterfuck and in my opinion, we are staying in the Presidential Suite of The Hays-Adams Hotel because Ana is still in shock. I do not understand why she is putting herself through hell when she could simply walk away. Kate keeps arguing with Ana over this same idea and Kate told me that Ana's exact response was that she is adamant to inflict bottomless pain on Grey. I agreed when Kate said that Ana is sacrificing her feelings and well-being in order to accomplish this. However, we both know that once Ana Grey has a bone between her teeth, she will not let it go, even if the bone is torturing her. Kate is positive that her best friend lacks a sense of self-preservation due to her childhood abuse.

I quickly dress and make my way into the master suite where I find Ana resting against the balcony and staring blankly in the direction of the White House. Her back is to me and I am unable to see her face, but her shoulders are slumped and she looks defeated. There is no telling what is running through Ana's mind. Wondering how this woman must really feel, I make my way to her.

"Are you okay, Ana?

She spins around quickly and it is obvious she has been crying. Ana has managed to plaster a smile on her face that is as fake as her husband's love. Her expression makes me imagine all the ways I can beat Grey and Taylor into a coma. I suddenly feel less resistant about being in D.C. and helping Ana.

"Of course, I am. I was just looking at the White House and thinking how much I wish I had arms like Michelle Obama."

"There is nothing wrong with the arms you already have, Ana."

She half-heartedly laughs and I follow her into the dining room, noticing she has changed from a skirt and blouse and is wearing sweats and an oversized WSU sweatshirt.

The entire table is covered with food. Ana must have ordered the entire breakfast menu. I pour myself a cup of coffee. The food is delicious, but nowhere near as good as Gail's is.

"Do I get to ask what is on your agenda for today?"

Ana is absent-mindedly pushing a piece of cantaloupe around on her plate. I realize she is frustrated and probably feels useless, but I do not believe that Ana understands what I have to do and that I have to do it on my own. She is wearing her feelings on her sleeve and I have an overwhelming urge to hold her.

"You can ask, but cannot get an answer other than I'm going to make a few phone calls.

I know that I sound as if I am speaking to a child, but Ana does not acknowledge it. Instead, she is resting her head on her hand and is still playing with that damn cantaloupe. Ana nods in a bored and disinterested kind of way. Her mood has changed since I got in the shower.

"Ana, did something happen while I was in the shower? Your mood has changed drastically."

She still has not lifted her eyes from her plate and sighs deeply. Ana reminds me of a child and if Ray Steele would not tear Grey apart, I would tell him every sick detail in order for him to take his daughter back to Montesano.

"My loving husband sent an email full of lying bullshit. I am now consumed with prayers of an avalanche in the Swiss Alps directly over the hotel he is staying at."

I stop eating like a horse and give her my full attention.

"What did he write that has you so upset?"

"Oh, he was pretending he gave a fuck if we'd arrived safely and informed me that the jet had already arrived in Switzerland and he would soon be back in Seattle," She murmurs slowly.

"What did you write back to him?"

She may know the truth and we are in the middle of fucking him over, but Ana has to keep up the pretense of being in the dark.

"I just answered the way I would have a month ago."

The abject pain in her words are lighting the fuse to my rage.

"Ana, I realize having to behave this way is hell for you and I have to ask why you are doing this? We could easily grab a flight back to Seattle and you could file for divorce and take that fucker for half his fortune."

Ana's blue eyes tentatively rise up.

"I am throwing myself further into the hell Christian caused me so I am able to completely destroy him."

The unadulterated hatred in her voice takes me by surprise and I listen as she continues to speak.

"I do not understand why he played me for three years and just did not divorce me. I always knew I would never be enough for him and always expected us to divorce over it, but I just cannot wrap my head around the truth. Do you think I will ever find out the truth, Luke? Her question is a rushed breath.

"When you say the truth do you mean the reason Grey do this to you?"

We have got to get her to a therapist as soon as we are back in Seattle.

"Yes, I want to know why."

Tears are welling up in her eyes and I start to feel very uncomfortable. I fucking hate it when women cry because it takes me out of my comfort zone. I am an ex military sniper who is used to killing people. The only experience I have with women is finding a random one to fuck for one night. I do not know how to deal with a woman's emotions.

"If you ever find out why will it make you feel better? What would you gain if Grey told you why?"

I know I am walking on eggshells here and praying to God that she does not start to cry.

Ana shakes her head and looks despondent. The truth about her marriage has hit her square in the face.

"No. No, it would not. In addition, you are right. I would not gain anything. I only know one thing for sure," she murmurs softly and I can hear that she is fighting back tears.

I want to help Ana and I am willing to be her sounding board. Ana will forever be my friend and like my little sister, but having this deep and painful conversation is out of my depth. I am not sure what to do. I guess the best thing is to just listen.

"What do you know for sure?"

I do my best to ask her this in a voice as soft as hers, but her voice is small like a kitten and mine is the roar of a tiger.

"I know meeting Christian changed who I am. I will never know who I would have been."

Her pain-laced words enrage me and now I want to shoot Grey and Taylor.

"You would still be you, Ana. You would be successful in publishing. In addition, as far as Grey's bullshit changing you, who says this change cannot be a good thing? This might be fucking hell right now and may take a while to get over, but it will not define you and it's going to make you stronger."

Ana looks at me impassively and lays her head in her hands.

"Luke, I do not really know why we are here. I do not know if it is my instinct or my insecurity that is driving me right now. Despite utilizing every healthy way I know in order to deal with this drama, I have come up with a zero concrete conclusion."

What can I say to that? I keep my mouth shut and allow the pain to flow from her lips.

"How do I admit to myself that if I had faced my inability to be enough for Christian that I would have had enough self-respect and simply left?"

I am waiting for Ana to completely break down and do not know if I should call Kate or a psychiatrist.

"Luke, when I married Christian I entered an entirely alien life. I got so far in a new way of thinking that I eventually believed it. Christian gave me Grey Publishing and I was so proud of my accomplishments and myself. I felt confident in the person I was evolving into and appreciated the changes and where they were taking me. But I do not appreciate the cost I've discovered that I had to pay for them."

I watch as tears pour from Ana's eyes and I reach across the table and grab her hand. Any doubt that I had been harboring about helping Ana has evaporated. I am ripped between my urge to decimate Grey and a need to comfort this wonderful woman whose life he has so carelessly stomped on. Ana squeezes my hand and continues throwing out words that have been trapped in her mind. The room reverberates from them. She throws her head back as if she is in agony.

"God damn it! It is fucking pathetic when you cannot even trust your own self to do what is right for you! I need some fucking body to tell me that at one point all of this sick drama is going to go away! Luke, please, please, tell me that! Say it even if you do not believe it, Luke. Fucking lie to me! Tell me what I want to hear! Tell me what I need to hear! Please!"

Ana's screams are hysterical and I am afraid that she is going to hyperventilate like that day in Escala's parking garage. I pull her into my lap and I am rocking her back and forth. I sit holding her for a very long while and her tears abate. She slowly calms down. Eventually, Ana crawls off my lap and sinks into her chair.

"Ana, I think a good way for you to end every one of these fucked up thoughts is to see this isn't about you. It is Grey and his sick shit. Fuck. What did you do? You thought your marriage was solid with a loving husband. You fucking let him steal parts of your soul trying to give him some of that sick shit he wanted. It is your fault Grey is a sadist that ties up and beats whores? Put down the fucking bat you are beating yourself with and that will be your first step toward healing."

There is no mistaking the anger seeping through my words and I try to temper the strength of my emotion. I have shocked myself that I had let go of my usual calm demeanor.

Ana raises her head and nods. Her swollen eyes are red and she is wearing a tear stained face.

"I know. I have pretty much admitted to myself this is going to kill me and I also know I'll eventually be alright."

Her quiet strength is amazing. It is a quiet and deadly strength and combined with her intelligence, is the strength that is going to bring Grey to his knees.

"Yes, you will be alright. You will also be the one standing on Grey's back and laughing when he is caught unaware as you slam your stiletto up his ass."

She grins and this time it is genuine and it motivates me to get off my ass and get busy.

"How about we stop talking about the scum fuck and I will write down what I need and how much I will pay."

I nod at her as she grabs the hotel stationary. Ana looks at the paper thoughtfully before writing what I am expected to handle. I sit patiently while she goes over the list. She hands it to me and I go over it point by point. I know whom I will hand her list to and anticipate his laughter that he is being asked to do a job that he will consider simple.

"Can this friend of yours deliver all of this?"

Her voice has changed and she sounds like the Ana I know. Nearly laughing at her because I know what my friend, as she calls him, is capable of, I grin at her.

"I believe so, Ana. It is time for me to get started. Do me a favor, if you hear me on the phone; do not come in the room. Spooks are easily spooked.

Ana looks at me in utter confusion since she does not understand what I have said and it brings a big smile to my face.

I stand and grab both burner phones and the laptop and its charger and make my way back to the smaller suite where I am staying.

"Luke, hold up. I want to add something."

I scrunch my face up and turn back to her.

"Do not say you forgot to add murdering Grey."

Ana laughs bitterly.

"Trust me, if I did not adore my in laws that is exactly what I would be paying your friend to do."

"What more do you want him to do?"

"I do not want him doing anything else. I just decided to add another million for his services."

I am staring at the back of her head and her hair is piled on top of it.

"An additional million dollars? Jesus Christ, Ana. It is a shame you cannot use Grey's money."

Ana turns around to face me wearing an underhanded smile on her face.

"Who says that I am not?"

Ana's answer is so matter of fact and it gets the wheels in my brain moving. How would she be able to get that huge amount of money without Grey knowing? I decide not to ask her.

"I was thinking about what you found last week and I believe your friend is entitled to be compensated further."

Ana sounds angry now. Her mood swings are giving me whiplash and I am beginning to think she is Bipolar.

"Do you mean that playroom I found in that condo?"

Just saying it aloud makes me sick because I know the words must be like a dagger in Ana's heart.

"Yes. Those two disgusting rooms are going to require a lot of work and then you add the IT shit. If that offer is not sufficient, offer another million."

The amount of money Ana was offering to get this job done was staggering already and to offer more would have astounded me if I was not so willing to watch Grey broken.

"Fine, but do not leave the fucking suite while I am in the other room... That is no bullshit, Ana. As of right now, I still work for Grey and have to account for your whereabouts. Plus, once I tell Grey and Taylor to fuck off, I will still be your CPO, so keep your little ass in here and do not leave."

"I promise that I won't daddy. Now go to work while I channel surf and call Kate."

She still sounds pissed as I go in my bedroom and close the door behind me.

Over the course of the day Ana brings me lunch and junk food which eventually turns into dinner as the evening drags along, as does Ana's patience. I had explained this was a sit and wait game, but my luck was that the person I was explaining this to was the most stubborn woman on earth.

Sometime around ten o'clock that night I finally hear back from my contact who agrees to meet me at a park not far from the The Hays-Adams Hotel where we are staying. I am given fifteen minutes to be there and this tells me that after my contact received word I was looking for him, he had tracked me down. How typical of him. I throw on my leather jacket, placing one gun in my shoulder holster and another in the back of my jeans.

The minute I open the door to my suite and Ana sees that I am dressed to leave, she jumps from her bed with the speed of lightning.

"Is it time?"

"Yes, it is and like before, lock the fucking door behind me and do not open it for anyone. Do not answer if Grey happens to call you in case he asks to speak with me. Understand?"

"Yes, Luke. I am not a fucking idiot. Stand and listen by the door while I lock it behind you."

"I fucking planned on it."

I know she wants to say something else and anxiety is etched on her face as I close the door behind me. Ana actually listened to me and I hear her securely locking the door.

Seven minutes later, I am sitting on a park bench and staring ahead at nothing in particular. The overhead street lights illuminate the park. The only sound I hear is a barking dog in the distance.

Just as I expected, mere seconds after I sit down, I see him in my peripheral vision and he slides beside me on the bench. I smirk thinking that he is as silent as always and still appears out of nowhere. Neither of us says a word as we both stare into the darkness for several minutes. I finally reach into the inside pocket of my leather jacket to retrieve Ana's list and pass it to him. He takes out a small pen light that is bright enough for him to read it. He finishes and folds it in half. We fall back in our silent thoughts and he stays silent for a while longer before he finally speaks.

"How the fuck have you been, Lucas?" His voice is as gravelly and harsh as it was the first time I heard it.

"Pretty fucking good, man. No complaints. You still sit on your ass all day?"

He chuckles softly and slaps me on the back.

"If that is what you want to call it, young man. I sit on my ass all day, work a few hours for our country's one percent who can afford my services and watch my bank account grow."

It is my turn to laugh now because I know he is right.

"You fucking prick. I would love to see the bottom line of your checking account. Seriously, how is retirement treating you?"

"Like a fucking baby. Like I said, still doing the same shit that I did for thirty-five years, only now I pick and chose which day I want to work. I am also making a fuck of a lot more money and it will not be too much longer until I am long gone to my own private island. What about you? Are you still in the world of protecting rich fucks?"

If I am not mistaken, I hear the disappointment in his question.

"Yup. My current job has excellent pay and benefits. I get to live in a mansion for free and have no bills other than my Harley and my truck. I also get to randomly beat the shit out of fuck heads that get too close to my principle."

The wind has picked up and I am glad that I wore my leather jacket. He is in his usual black trench coat and his hair is a lot grayer than the last time we saw one another. He scoffs at my answer.

"Ah, yes. Your principle, Mrs. Christian Grey. I have seen her several times. She seems like a lovely young woman. Quite lovely as well."

I hear the grandfather in his voice when he speaks about Ana. The fact that he has seen Ana in person does not surprise me. He is only hired by the Richie Rich's of the world and Grey is one of those.

"Yup, Mrs. Grey is a lovely lady. It is a good assignment. The only downside to being Ana's CPO is that she is stubborn and does not enjoy having me around her 24/7."

I can sense him nodding.

"Neither would I. She is a petite and pretty young lady. I know you, Lucas, and I have no doubt she brings out the big brother protective nature of yours."

"I suppose that is an accurate description."

Several minutes go by as we fall into another comfortable silence. The only sound is from the way his finger is flicking against Ana's list.

"This job is for her."

He is making a statement instead of asking me a question.

"Yup."

He turns his entire body toward me and rests his left arm on the back of the bench.

"You know the way this works and what I need to know before I even consider a fucking thing this little lady wants me to do."

For the first time, I turn and look him in the face. He has aged quite well.

"Yes, I know."

His brown eyes are hardened from seeing shit no one should ever have to see and they are boring into mine.

"Then I will start asking the questions and you give me the fucking answers. Is Mrs. Grey in D.C.?"

As if, he does not already know the answer to his own question. I give him a curt nod that he returns.

"Alright, I will start with the small shit. Why the IT?

I sigh and exhale a long held breath.

"There are four computers. Three desktops and one laptop. One desktop is in the office of a CEO whose building is protected by security that only Ft. Knox can rival. Second desktop is in the CEO's office at his present residence. The last desktop is located in the office of the CEO's previous residence. The laptop also belongs to the CEO and is usually in his office at work unless he is traveling on business. Each location is loaded with security and he is so paranoid he has surrounded his life with CCTV's.

"Now fucking tell me what you want done with each of them."

"We need the hard drive of each computer to be copied. She also wants the capability to access every past and present email accounts on every one of the computers. We need a direct hookup from each computer to one of our own in order to monitor every sent and received email. The laptop requires a tracking device. I know what I am about to tell you will not be a problem for you, but this CEO has an IT guy that is a computer genius. I have never known anything to get past him. Like I said, there is no doubt you can run circles around him."

His laughter is coarse and throaty in the way of a cigarette smoker.

"I appreciate your confidence in my abilities, Lucas. Our CEO is Grey?"

"It is."

I cannot get any clue as to what he is thinking and I remember how that always used to drive me nuts.

"My next question is why Mrs. Grey wants an undetectable tracker on a vehicle that already has a tracker. Obviously two people want the ability to track this vehicle for very different reasons."

"Correct. Grey has them on each of his vehicles and Mrs. Grey wants the ability to track where he is."

"Let us discuss what I find the most interesting. She has requested sixteen premium viewing video recorders that are to be fitted with a camera set to take a photograph every five minutes. They also require quality sound and are to be turned on and off by a motion detector. She has written down these devices are to be set up in two separate locations."

"Exactly. Eight recorders per room. Two recorders per wall. The same set up at each location. I will not insult you by saying they need to be undetectable."

"Fuck you, Lucas. So, you have two rooms, each calling for eight cameras each, with two cameras per wall."

"Yup."

"Now, to what intrigues me. One camera on each wall is to be set exactly six feet and two inches from the floor. The second camera on each wall is to be set at the height I deem necessary once I measure the height of the bed from the floor."

I am not surprised that he is not already asking me the reason for all of this.

"Yup. That is exactly what is required."

"Let us summarize Mrs. Grey's request so we are on the same page. Four computers with hard drives that need to be copied. Locate past and present email accounts. Pull past email and enable each computer so that you have access to every email that is sent and received from each of them. A laptop requiring a tracker and an undetectable tracker on a vehicle that already has a tracker. Mrs. Grey also requests that two rooms are equipped with the very best and high-end recording devices. Yes?"

He sounds bored, as if I just asked him what time that it is.

"That sounds correct."

"I am not saying this to insult Mrs. Grey, but she did not suggest I sign an NDA, did she?

"Nope. I did not even have to tell her that you refuse to fuck with an NDA. She had no desire to ask you to sign one."

He nods and is pressing two fingers to his lips. I know that he is mentally tearing down each request that Ana has asked of him.

I lean forward with my arms resting on my knees and wait for him to say something.

"Mr. Christian Grey has been a bad boy."

I shoot him a look that says no shit.

"Alright, Lucas. You know the drill. Break it down and make it simple."

"Prior to his marriage Mr. Grey was into…"

"BDSM. Tell me something that is not well known and then explain why this young woman wants to hire me. That's all I give a fuck about."

I cannot help but stare at him because I am genuinely shocked. How in the hell would he know about Grey and his lifestyle? In addition, he said well known. As I try to figure out how he would be privy to such information, I watch as he smirks at me. The bastard knows he caught me off guard. I seem to have forgotten who I am dealing with.

"Continue and condense your story, Lucas."

"Mrs. Grey recently discovered her husband has returned to his previous lifestyle and has been cheating on her their entire marriage. So far, she has obtained detailed files Grey keeps on the women he contracts to be his submissive. Mrs. Grey also obtained graphic photographs of women during BDSM scenes. Unfortunately, Grey's face is not in any of the pictures and…"

He holds up his right hand to stop me.

"Hold up. How do these two different rooms come into the equation? I am a hundred percent sure I know the answer, but I want a definitive answer."

Leaning back on the bench, I rub my face. He damn well knows what these rooms are meant for and I do not see the point of why he wants me to confirm it. He always could be tedious.

"They are BDSM rooms. Grey refers to them as playrooms. One is located in his previous residence, a penthouse in a building called Escalva. The second is located in a downtown condominium.

"The tracker on the vehicle is obviously Grey's and his wife wants to know if he is at either location."

"That's not a question old man."

"Fuck you, Lucas."

He always could bring a smile to my face.

"Hmm. Ana Grey wants these rooms fitted with high-end surveillance in order to obtain evidence that her husband cannot dispute."

"Yup."

"Let me guess, this young woman is smart enough to request a camera placed exactly six feet and two inches from the floor because that's how tall her husband is and she wants a camera on all four walls of these rooms so she can be sure to capture his face."

"You are knocking them out of the ball park tonight. I thought that was a pretty good idea myself and yes, Ana is highly intelligent."

"Yes, it sounds like she is. Keeping along with things that are obvious, the second camera on each wall is meant to capture the face of a woman?"

"You are once again correct."

"She already has his files and photographs of these women?"

"Yes, I got her in his penthouse where she recovered them in his home office."

"Well, Lucas, maybe there is hope for you at the agency after all," He says in a joking manner.

"No. Not for now anyway."

"I must ask, if Ana Grey already possesses these files and pictures, why not cut her losses and divorce him now?"

I rub my face with both hands and shake my head.

"Fuck, if I know. I have asked her the same damn thing and so has her best friend, who also happens to be her sister in law. We keep telling her to kick rocks and leave, but she is determined to nail his balls to the wall. She said she is willing to walk through hell as long as she can destroy him. I have told her she can do that already since he didn't want them to have a pre nup."

"A billionaire like fucking Grey did not demand a pre nup?

"That would be an affirmative."

He whistles and I watch his eyebrows rise with surprise and he is stroking his chin. I am beginning to think that he is mulling over that he already thought highly of Ana. I remember the way his mind works. He respects her cleverness and that she is using her intelligence to be deceitful.

"They have no pre nup and she still is not satisfied that she will walk away with half of what is his? On top of taking his money she could start handing out those folders and photographs like candy?"

"I wish that would satisfy her."

"Are you positive that Grey has no clue that she has found out his dirty little secret?"

I shake my head vigorously.

"Fuck no. If he knew she had any inkling of this shit, we'd all know it. Especially me. Grey would be so far up my ass you would see his manicured hand coming out of my mouth. Then my ass would be on the street."

"You are still on his payroll and helping his wife fuck him over? That is my boy, Lucas. What will you do when the shit does hit the fan? Please tell this old man you are not considering to remain on Grey's payroll?"

"Not a chance in hell. I am going with Ana. She is still going to need a close protection officer. She owns Grey Publishing and do not forget once the smoke clears that she will be a billionaire in her own right."

He does not comment and we fall into another comfortable silence. I can hear the gears turning in his head and I am just waiting for his reply. If he does not take the job I will be forced back to square one. Only this time with someone that I do not trust as implicitly as I do him.

"It is a god damn pity that I cannot meet Ana Grey. I would love to get a hint of what she is planning in her clever mind. Do you know what she has in store for him?"

"Not at all and believe me when I say that I have done my best to pull it from her. I know Ana like the back of my hand and she does not do anything half-assed. Whatever her plan may be, I see Grey emerging a changed man and I will be honest to say I am looking forward to helping her take him down."

"I understand why you would feel that way. Mrs. Grey is fortunate to have you in her corner."

Still holding my breath as I await his decision, I do not reply. More fucking silence.

"Do you have the information that is required?"

I nearly fist pump the air. We have him. I pull out the flash drive from my leather jacket, pass it to him, and watch him place it in the inner pocket of his coat. He passes me a piece of paper and I know what it is.

"As soon as the money is transferred to this account I will be in touch."

"Mrs. Grey will probably do it tonight."

His gruff laughter fills the air around us.

"Then you will hear from me sooner."

"Oh, and Lucas. I noted where Mrs. Grey scratched out her initial offer and upped it a million, tell her I don't need another million."

My face is fighting against itself trying not smile. This crusty old fuck with a heart of gold.

We finally stand and shake hands. Those hardened eyes are once again boring into mine.

"I am breaking my only rule with this job. I am doing this for that lovely young woman and for my own delight when she takes the bastard down."

There is that grandfather talking again. I just nod at him and remove my hand.

He then disappears in the darkness as quietly as he emerged from it.

I shove my hands in my pockets and make my way back to Ana.

.


	18. Chapter 18

All rights to the characters and story of Fog belong to E. L. James

_This chapter is the answer to a question I have been asked by many of you. It might also inspire more questions._

_**Hmm…**_

_**Sunday, April 26**__**th**__**, **_

_Seattle, Washington_

Ana has lost all desire to continue to behave as a genial patient. She is past annoyance at the blood sucking lab technician and his butterfly needles. Just like every other morning, the tech makes his rounds at five in the morning in order to wake Ana and draw more of her blood, so Ana is wide-awake and wonders which goon Christian has planted by the door to her room. By seven-thirty, Ana has been checked over by the on-coming day shift nurse whose hair is peroxide blonde and is much too perky for Ana's liking. Ana is entering her fifth day in the hospital and so far, the only positive experience was when they finally removed her catheter and abdominal drainage tube. The downside about having them removed is that her surgeon ordered her to get out of bed and to start walking the halls. For Ana, walking is staggering down a hallway, bent over and holding her abdominal incision.

Ana and Luke were a few days into their stay in D.C. when she began to have a sharp and intermittent pain in her right lower abdomen. It came as fast as it went and Ana paid it no heed nor did she mention it to Luke. After Ana kept declining more site seeing excursions, Luke finally took notice of her appearance and could tell she was a bit paler than usual, and began to catch her wincing as though she was in pain. After Ana finally gave up the ghost and admitted she felt ill, Luke begged her to go the nearest emergency room. Being the stubborn and the insubordinate woman that she is, Ana refused, causing an intense argument between them that ended when Luke stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door.

While flying back to Seattle on the GEH jet and somewhere over the Midwest, Ana spiked a fever from out of nowhere and began to vomit repeatedly. The flight attendant did her best to alleviate her symptoms, but every cracker and sip of ginger ale that went down immediately came back up. When Ana became too weak to run back and forth to the bathroom, Luke led her to the jet's bedroom and placed a garbage can beside her. The flight attendant tells Luke that Ana probably has a stomach bug, but when they are half way across Washington State, they watch as Ana begins to shake uncontrollably and her face is blood red. They hurriedly take her temperature and they both go white when it registers over one hundred and four degrees. Grabbing up towels from the galley, Luke and the flight attendant soak them in cold water and rub Ana down with them in an attempt to lower her temperature. Unfortunately, it does not work.

When they are twenty minutes from SeaTac, Luke tells the pilot to radio ahead and have an ambulance waiting for them on the tarmac. No sooner than Luke steps out of the cockpit, Ana screams so loudly that even the pilot jumps. That sharp and intermittent pain in her right lower abdomen suddenly exploded and Luke watched as she alternated between throwing up and curling into a ball crying from pain.

Luke crouches down at the end of the stretcher after they load Ana in the ambulance. He immediately calls Taylor to let him know what was going on and that they were headed to Highline Medical Center, which was the one closest hospital to SeaTac. Luke listens to the paramedic's one-sided conversation with the emergency room physician who was giving him orders over the phone and watches them start two IV lines on Ana. The paramedic is telling the ER physician that Ana's blood pressure is alarmingly high as is her heart rate. They wrap her in a cooling blanket and as they back the ambulance into the ER bay, Ana starts fading in and out of consciousness.

By the time Grey arrives demanding to know his wife's whereabouts, Ana's labs have already been drawn and she is on another floor having a Doppler Ultrasound. Luke appears beyond angry when the ultrasound tech refuses to let him in the room with Ana. Luke's irritated expression changes into one of apprehension when two women dressed in scrubs rush in the room. After what seems like hours, the same women burst through the door rapidly pushing Ana's hospital bed in a direction that is not the way back to the ER. They are walking quite fast, although both appear calm and Ana is asleep.

"May I inquire where you are taking Mrs. Grey?

"Are you related to Mrs. Grey?" Luke reads RN on her name badge. She is an attractive woman who is probably in her fifties and speaks in a comforting voice.

"No, I am Mrs. Grey's personal security." Luke has picked up his pace to keep up with them.

"Well, I cannot tell you anything. Do you know if any of her family has arrived?"

"No. I have been beside Mrs. Grey upon arrival. But her husband has been notified."

The nurse ignores him and Luke watches as Ana disappears behind a pair of double doors with a sign reading Radiology beside them. Luke can only stand guard by them. No more than a minute later, Luke hears his name being called by the loud and booming voice of Christian Grey.

"Where is my wife, Sawyer?" Grey demanded while doing his trademark of running a hand through his hair.

"Sir, they have just taken her into the radiology department."

"Radiology? For what? Moreover, what fucking else have they done? What is taking so long?" Grey's voice is full of panic.

"Sir, Mrs. Grey has not been back there too long. Prior to that, they drew some blood for lab work and performed a Doppler Ultrasound. She's currently asleep, Sir."

"What the fuck is a Doppler Ultrasound? Are you positive she is not hurting, Sawyer?" Christian was pacing, which he only did when he was gradually losing control of a situation.

"Sir, she was asleep and did not appear to be in any pain. A Doppler Ultrasound determines whether or not an organ is receiving sufficient blood flow."

"FUCKING BLOOD FLOW TO ANA'S ORGANS?" Christian roared at Luke who keeps a professional and impassive expression intact. "Blood flow to what ORGAN? Holy, fuck! What the hell happened to her?"

"Sir, we had been in the air for a while when Mrs. Grey suddenly spiked a fever and began to vomit. At one point, her temperature was over one hundred and four. It was not long after having her temperature re-check that Mrs. Grey began having severe pain on the right side of her abdomen. Luckily, we were nearing SeaTac and I had the pilot radio ahead to have an ambulance waiting for us on the tarmac."

"Luke, why did you wait to call me before you landed? If you were that close to the airport the jet's phone would have been working." Taylor's voice was short and clipped as he quizzed Luke, who never broke Taylor's intimidating stare.

"They were not working. You can confirm this with the pilot and flight attendant."

The double doors swung open before Taylor could reply. If the two nurses had been pushing Ana's bed in a rushed manner on the way to Radiology department, this time they were practically running.

Luke and Taylor jogged along either side of the bed while Christian attempted to grasp Ana's hand.

"We do not have time to let you take her hand. Excuse us, please." It was not the attractive and soft-spoken nurse speaking this time. It was a much younger woman who appeared as though she could have just graduated nursing school.

"I am her husband god damn you and I will hold her hand if I fucking want to!" Christian Grey the caveman has made his appearance.

Both nurses glare at him, but seem to be in emergency mode and do not care to reply. The elevator ride down to the emergency department is deadly quiet and the older nurse is tapping her shoe on the floor impatiently. Christian was stroking the top of Ana's head when the door opened and the nurses practically slide the hospital bed into the ER sideways. They stop and push Ana into an exam room where two doctors were waiting for them by the door. One is a rather young female physician, the other, an older balding man. Luke and Taylor stand on either side of the doorway while the two physicians stop Christian at the door. Directly in front of Ana's exam room is the waiting area and every member of the Grey family is standing there watching Christian speak with the two doctors.

Dr. Trevelyan walks toward her son and both physician's.

"What the hell is wrong with Anastasia? Christian asks the female doctor, who is a kind and soft-spoken woman while he running both of his hands through his hair. Katherine Grey's emerald eyes are fixated on her brother-in-law, as she takes in his behavior.

"Mr. Grey, allow me to introduce myself. I am Dr. Joseph, a gynecologist on staff here. May I also introduce you to one of our surgeons, Dr. Rutledge?" Christian shakes both of their hands and is looking at his mother helplessly.

"Mr. Grey, we performed a Doppler Ultrasound over the area of Mrs. Grey's pain and it indicated she had little to no blood flow to her right ovary and right Fallopian tube. She then had a CAT scan on the same area and it found a large mass over her right ovary and the surrounding area. That is when Dr. Rutledge was brought in."

Christian walks away, repeatedly saying, "Fuck."

"I am Ana's mother in law, Dr. Grace Trevelyan. I assume you are headed to the OR right away?" Christian was rubbing his face with both hands as Grace placed a comforting arm on his shoulder.

"Yes, the nurses are prepping her right now. I am hoping to locate and remove the problem laparoscopically." Dr. Rutledge's attitude was curt and it was apparent he was in a hurry to get Ana into the OR. The nurses open the exam room and push Ana's hospital bed toward the surgical suite.

As they watch Ana disappear, Kate and Mia began to cry.

"Mr. Grey, this should be about an hour long procedure and then I will come out and inform you of your wife's situation." The surgeon was in such a hurry he was walking and had turned his head toward Christian as he spoke.

Grace walks back to the waiting area with her son as everyone starts firing questions at them both. Christian flops into a chair despondently and Kate's eyes dart to Luke and through his peripheral vision, he catches her look.

"They found a large mass over Ana's right ovary and performed another test that determined the area was basically cut off from blood flow. They have taken her back to surgery to figure out what is the matter and remove it." Even when Grace delivers bad news, she always sounds gentle and comforting.

Kate and Mia both throw a hand over their mouth as Grace spoke.

"Oh, God, Grace! A mass over Ana's ovary? What does that mean? A mass means cancer, doesn't it?" Kate began to weep and Elliot walked up behind her and placed both of his hands on her pregnant belly.

Mia broke down when Kate says the word cancer. "Cancer? Oh, my God! Mom, is Ana going to be okay? God, what are they doing to her?"

"Shh… Ana will be fine. The surgeon is doing a minimally invasive procedure and it should only take an hour. Come here, sweetheart. Don't worry." Grace enveloped Mia in her arms.

Carrick looks at his youngest son who is not speaking and looks as if he is on the verge of tears. "Son, you need to call Ray. As in, right now." Christian continues to withdraw into himself and does not reply. Carrick sighs and holds out his hand. "Christian, give me your phone and I will call him. He is Ana's father and needs to be here. Ray can decide if Carla needs to be informed."

Handing his phone to his father, Christian does not reply and Carrick steps in the hallway to call Ray. Elliot had finally calmed his wife down, but Kate is still staring at Christian as her brain is in overdrive as it attempts to decipher his behavior.

The one hour becomes two hours, and everyone keeps checking their watches or stares at the clock on the wall. Elliot is now pacing alongside Christian. Carrick is ordering his sons to sit down before they stop. Even the unflappable Grace appears worried as she begins to rub her temples. Kate reaches over and clasps her hand. Time continues to drag on until it is the third hour since they rolled Ana into the OR. Christian jumps from his chair, loudly exclaiming, "Fuck this!" and heads to the surgical wing where Luke and Taylor are standing guard by the unit's double doors.

"Elliot, pull a chair over to your wife so she prop up her feet. They're beginning to swell." Grace sounds exhausted and irritable and Carrick pats her leg. Elliot grabs a chair and loudly scraps it against the floor until it is close enough to lift his wife's legs on it.

"Do you feel like staying, baby? Maybe we should go home." Kate vehemently shakes her head no.

Christian returns to the waiting room just as Ray arrives. Ray takes in the expressions of his daughter's in-laws.

"Where is Annie? Carrick, I thought you told me this would be a simple procedure, but I can see that must not be the case. What has happened?" Ray's laid-back attitude has disappeared and his brown eyes reflect a controlled panic as he shakes the hand of the three Grey men.

"Ray, I wish I could tell you something. We've just been sitting here waiting and have not heard anything," Carrick murmured.

Four hours and ten minutes pass when an exhausted Dr. Rutledge enters the room. He is still wearing his blue shoe covers and looks at them with a grim expression. The entire Grey family rushes him, but it is unclear if Grace, Ray, or Christian got to him first.

"Mr. Grey, I am sorry to say that the procedure I told you that I would be performing on your wife was unsuccessful…"

"Unsuccessful? Unsuccessful, how? How is my fuc…" Christian loudly begins to ask the surgeon.

Grace grabs his elbow in a gesture to shut him up and allow her to talk to the doctor.

"Why was the laparoscopic surgery unsuccessful Dr. Rutledge?" Grace could still sound professional despite being exhausted.

"Dr. Trevelyan, once I had the scope over the affected area, it became obvious Mrs. Grey's situation was more complicated than we feared…"

"Complicated? What the hell does that mean?" Christian barks at the surgeon and Ray takes hold of Christian's arm.

Sighing deeply, Dr. Rutledge continues. "Mrs. Grey had an adnexal torsion which was caused by a large 13 cm ovarian cyst. Adnexal torsion means that Mrs. Grey's right ovary had grown very large with infection due to the large cyst and the ovary was twisted around itself three times. The twisted ovary had also adhered to her right Fallopian tube that was also twisted several times. The scope also proved that the adnexal torsion was so complex that it had all but cut off the blood supply to the ovary and Fallopian tube, leaving them necrotic and nonviable."

Ray looks puzzled and shakes his head. "Necrotic means dead." It is a simple statement and the surgeon nodded.

"So, you had to perform a laparotomy on Ana, Dr. Rutledge?" Grace knew that the entire family felt as if she is speaking Latin, so she looks at everyone to explain in a manner they can understand.

"In simple terms, Dr. Rutledge had to make an incision into Ana's abdomen instead of a lap, which just leaves you with three small incision sites. A laparotomy is one large incision where the surgeon can fully open up the abdomen and have total access to locate and assess the problem. I am very sorry to interrupt you, Dr. Rutledge. I have a very impatient family."

The surgeon looks thoroughly pissed and as if he could not give two fucks about her impatient family.

"Yes, we did a laparotomy and I made a Pfannenstiel incision, or simply put a bikini line incision. When I had an unhindered view, I saw that the damage was extensive. As I told you, the torsion, or rather the twisting of the ovary and Fallopian tube had cut off blood supply and both her ovary and Fallopian tube had to be removed. That 13 cm ovarian cyst had caused her ovary to swell to four times the normal size and it was grossly infected. It was the infection that led to her high fever and vomiting. As I began to remove the ovary and Fallopian tube, I ran into another problem when I discovered the ovary and tube had adhered to her peritoneum. This caused a bit of more difficulty than I wanted. After I separated the adhesion, we continued removing the necrotic tissue along with a small area of tissue that extended past the ovary and tube. Then I inserted a drain that we will leave in for several days."

Grace listens to Kate and Mia quietly crying and Elliot is quietly consoling them. Christian is covering his face with his hands while Ray holds onto his shoulder.

"Dr. Rutledge, this is nothing but curiosity, but a situation as serious as this would appear to have taken quite a bit of time to develop. Why do you suppose Ana had no symptoms until she suddenly fell so seriously ill? I know that she never complained of any pain or discomfort to me. Kate, Mia, did Ana ever tell you if she was having any pain in her lower abdomen?" Both women shook their heads.

"Christian, did Ana mention anything like this you?

"Never," Christian answered his mother in a low and monotone voice.

"Dr. Trevelyan, it has been my experience that situations such as these can occur suddenly as Mrs. Grey's did, or over a long period of time where a woman does have symptoms and complaints of discomfort and pain. I also wanted to let you know I did cut out the tissue to biopsy even though her blood work had her CA 125 within the normal range. But I wanted definitive proof that the mass was not malignant."

Christian appears as though he has been seized with panic. "Malignant? This could be malignant. It could be cancer?" Grace slowly shakes her head at her youngest son.

"Mr. Grey, the CA 125 levels were within a normal range. A CA 125 value is a test that can indicate ovarian cancer. Mrs. Grey's levels did not indicate that and I simply wanted to have some tissue biopsies just to be positive. I also do not believe we are looking at anything cancerous. The cyst did not look cancerous to me at all. But like I said, I just wanted to stay on the side of caution."

"Where is my Annie right now? When can I see her?" Ray's words are shaky and his eyes glassy. Kate goes to him and wraps her arms around him.

"Mrs. Grey is in recovery right now. Then I am sending her to SICU although I think it will just be for tonight. I want her in SICU to watch and measure the amount of drainage we get. She is also receiving two antibiotics intravenously. We have her in a cooling blanket since she still has an elevated body temperature. If she has improved by tomorrow, I will move her to a private room. SICU does allow two visitors at a time, but they have specific visiting hours and you cannot sit with her long. Just do not let her appearance alarm you. She could possibly not fully awaken until tomorrow due to the anesthesia and pain medication. She is receiving morphine via a pump. Now, are there any other questions or concerns?"

"I do Dr. Rutledge. This will not affect Ana being able to conceive a child, will it? I just assume it will make conceiving harder." Kate asked the surgeon, doing her best to not sound as though she was antagonizing Christian although she never removes her eyes from him.

The doctor shook his head. "I have seen some cases that women do not conceive as quickly as they would like, but a surgery such as this does not make a woman infertile."

"How long will Annie have to stay here?" Ray's impatience at not being able to see his daughter is coming through in his words.

"You can expect a five to seven-day hospital stay. It could very well be shorter, but that decision will be based on several things; when there is no longer any drainage, if her temperature normalizes and when her blood tells me she is free of any infection. You will definitely be looking at a four to six-week recovery period. Mrs. Grey will definitely require some care at home the first few days and will not be back to herself for several weeks. Can I answer anything else? If not, I will head to the SICU and tell the nurses to allow you to sit with Mrs. Grey for a while."

"Thank you, Dr. Rutledge. Our family is very grateful you took such good care of our Ana." As if Grace's words were their cue, each of the men shook the doctor's hand before he took leave.

"Well, it is late kids. You should all go home and come back in the morning. I am sure our dear Ana will be in a room of her own by then and we can all sit with her. I will wait along with your father, Ray and Christian."

Kate started to open her mouth in protest until Elliot pointed at her ankles. "Babe, you are about to pop out a baby and need to rest. We will come and sit with Ana tomorrow."

Kate actually is tired to her bones, but she also wants to see how Christian acts when he sees his wife, only Grace and Elliot will not allow it.

"We will be back first thing in the morning, Grace. Come with us, Mia. You can stay with us tonight." Kate hugs her mother and father in law, links arms with Mia, and then throws a death glare at her brother in law who is sitting in a chair and looking at his shoes.

_**Monday, April 27**__**th**__**, 2015**_

_Seattle, Washington_

It is the sixth day of Ana's hospital stay and she is being discharged home, or rather to Carrick and Grace's home. Ana is sitting fully dressed and in a wheelchair with a nice and patient hospital aid who is ready to take her out through a side exit of the hospital. Once the media found out that Ana was in the hospital, they had camped out in front of the place and making life miserable for everyone who attempted to enter or leave the hospital.

Ana would have long been gone if Grace, Mia, Christian and Kate would have just shut up. Christian is still being a pain in her ass about the fact she has gone along with Grace and Mia's idea to stay at his parent's home. Christian refuses to see that asking Gail to take on Ana's care is too much for the poor woman. As he begins to talk about hiring a nurse, Ana watches as the women all but lose their shit.

"Christian Grey, I have taken leave from work for the next two weeks and it is utterly ridiculous that you expect Gail to care for your wife. Did you forget about these dressing changes she requires?"

Grace has had enough. They have all been fighting about this for at least thirty minutes and it was time to call the game.

"No, mom. I have not forgotten and I am only thinking that Anastasia would be more comfortable at home. Wouldn't you, Anastasia?" Christian is looking over his mother's head at Ana.

"I would be more comfortable if you did not call me Anastasia." Her comment made Grace and Mia laugh, but Kate knew Ana was not kidding around with Christian, who is looking at Ana with his eyes narrowed.

"Christian, I have already told you that I would feel comfortable with your mother taking care of me. Expecting Gail to become a nursemaid is not realistic. Plus, it is not like you are at home long enough to help Gail with me if she needs it and…"

Christian is glaring at Ana. "I am at home. You are acting as if I am never at home and that is not true. I cannot help if I have twelve to fourteen-hour workdays! All I ever do is work and come home and you know it!"

The temperature in the room has dropped to freezing and the only one speaks up is Christian's lovely sister in law who pokes the bear, even if she does so in a seemingly joking manner. "Please, Christian. Like work and staying at home is all that you do."

The Grey glower has now been turned on Kate. "What the fuck does that mean, Katherine?" Christian asks, practically screaming.

"Christian! Did I not raise you better than to speak to a woman like that? Kate was joking with you in light of your petulance! Sometimes you behave like you were raised in a barn!"

"Christian, if Ana comes with me and mom, we can take care of her all the time and she will be up to the anniversary party I have planned for you two!" Mia is pouting in an attempt to soften up her brother.

"Mia. I have told you to cancel that shit. There is no way in hell that Anastasia is going to feel well enough to endure a party. My, God! It is on May 9th, which is in a week and a half. The doctor says Anastasia will not be fully recovered for four to six-weeks. Can you not see how impractical having a party is?" Christian's voice is raised again and he has closed his eyes from exasperation.

"I am your sister and not an employee of yours, Christian. The second Ana says she does not feel well enough I will cancel this party. The minute mom or me look at Ana and can tell she is not up for the party I will cancel it. And you know what big brother? You have been saying every word in the vocabulary for me not throw this party from the minute I brought up the idea. Now, you are using this to your advantage. Just do not worry about it. If Ana says she feels well enough for it, then I will keep it as planned. You just do what you have been hinting at since I informed you of it and not bother showing up. Plus, you're only worried about a timeline of four to six weeks because you can't have sex with Ana!"

"Mia Grey! I want the both of you to stop arguing. You are no longer children and Ana is sitting up in a wheelchair probably in pain. I have had it with whatever is wrong with you Christian and I am ready to take your wife home and put her to bed."

Christian throws his hands up in the air in an exaggerated manner.

"Fine. Do what you want to and I will go to the trouble of finding three of my security guys to your house mom. Just fine."

No sooner than Mia and Kate go to stand up, Ana begins to shout at Christian with such vehemence that has Kate terrified of what she will say next.

"Oh, SHUT THE HELL UP, CHRISTIAN! As if YOU will do shit about having more of your armed idiots sent to your parents house. The most work YOU will do is walk out in this hallway and tell your right- hand man, good ol" Jason Taylor to handle it for YOU! Because that is what TAYLOR is for, is he not, Christian? He does whatever you say without question, does he not? I wonder if HE has ever questioned anything YOU DO. HAS HE, CHRISTIAN? HUH?"

Somewhere in the middle of Ana's tirade, she attempted to stand and now she's bending over in pain. It takes the others a minute to clear their heads about what she has just said and how she said it, but when they see her holding her abdomen and attempting to sit back down, they all run to her. The hospital aid grabs Ana's arm and steadily lowers her back into the wheelchair.

"Ana, honey. Are you alright?" Grace softly asks her.

"I am fine. I just want the hell out of here and I want it to be right now." Grace nods her head and Mia and Kate follow her out of Ana's room.

h. Christian still has not responded to what Ana said. His expression is complete confusion.

"I mean it, Christian. Do not send one single idiot to your parent's house. They have security, a security system in their house, and I have Sawyer."

"Fine. I will also blame your outrageous behavior and the venomous look you are currently giving me on all of your pain medication."

"Yeah, let us blame it on that."

Ana does her best to look behind her, "I am sorry you've had to sit through this. Our family does not usually behave so abhorrently, I assure you." The hospital worker smiles at her.

Christian slowly walks beside Ana's wheelchair as they are leaving the room. He looks down at his phone, something in the garbage can catches his eye, and he pauses. It is a lovely flower arrangement that someone threw in the trash.

"Anastasia, why is there a vase of flowers in the garbage can?"

"Because I fucking well threw it in there. A bit obvious is it not?"

"I don't understand. Were they flowers you don't like?"

"No, I thought the flowers were beautiful. What I do not understand is why we are in the doorway of my room staring in the garbage can at a vase of flowers I threw away."

Christian shrugs his shoulders. "I am just trying to understand why you would throw away a vase of flowers you thought were beautiful."

Ana looks up at him with icicles hanging from both of her blue eyes that look into his with unadulterated fury.

"Oh, the flowers are beautiful. It is obvious that their sender did not touch them or else they would have shriveled up and died."

"You and you're fucking riddles. Therefore, you threw the flowers away because of who sent them. Well, who sent them?"

"Your gorgeous close family friend. Your business partner that you have dinners with that last until eleven o'clock at night. Your Mrs. Lincoln."

Christian stands there mutely.

"Sir, go ahead and wheel me out of here. My husband has us stuck by the garbage that is emitting an all too familiar, yet disgusting stench.

Anna's note—I hate everything about this chapter. It did not get into any character's mind, although it had our antagonist acting unlike himself. The ending is the direction of a most interesting chapter 19.


	19. Chapter 19

All rights to the characters and story of FsoG belong to E. L. James

(FYI: This is loooong and that's why it's full of all kinds of mistakes)

_**The Cataclysm Born From Lies**_

_**Saturday, May 9**__**th**__**, 2015**_

_Bellevue, Washington_

_Ana's POV_

Christian decided to stay with me at his parent's home while I recovered from my surgery. Half way to Bellevue that morning he told me that he wanted to help take care of me, so Grace puts us up in their largest guest room, as I need a bigger bed so that Christian does not mistakenly hit my incision in his sleep. I told my husband it would be easier to keep him from accidentally hitting me if he slept with his back to me. I could not have handled Christian facing me and wrapping his arms around me. I have to give the sleeping pills Grace prescribed their proper due. Once they take effect, I am in a blissful sleep and don't have to lay awake and think about the man lying beside me. Until I am lost in dreamless sleep, I lay there while silent tears run from the corners of my eyes. I lie beside him and I recognize that I am dying. I was a woman, a daughter, a friend, a daughter-in-law, and I thought I was a wife. I now see myself as I really am, a fool, a joke.

_Why, why, why?_

Thankfully, Mia listened to me and Grace to scale this party down. I cut the guest list in half and overruled her plan of a huge back yard tent. Now a smaller one serves as a small dance floor and bar. I did not want people here if they had not attended our wedding. I made up the guest list and made sure _**she **_had been invited. I could have removed _**her **_from the guest list, but I refused my routine of tuning _**her **_out to save myself any grief. Tonight, _**Mrs. Lincoln **_had my undivided attention. Kate raised many legitimate questions concerning _**Cruella**__** de Ville, **_not only her behavior, but her presence on the sideline of my life.

_Who are you really, you bitch? _

Surprised that I look like my usual self, I refuse the three pounds of make-up that Mia wanted to plaster my face with. I was in no mood to be her personal Barbie doll, but did allow her to curl my hair and we left it hanging down my back. She was given carte blanche over the dress I'd wear which could have been a disaster. Mia did well and bought me a royal blue cocktail dress that wasn't so tight that it constricted around my abdomen. Christian insisted on buying me a sapphire necklace with matching earrings as an anniversary gift since they matched my dress. I oohed and ahhed over them appropriately. When he clasped the necklace for me, it actually felt like the hands of the Christian I thought I knew. Instead of flowers and a card as an anniversary gift, the gift of a billionaire's wife is jewelry from Cartier.

_As if money can buy you happiness. _

Around eight o'clock, our guests begin to arrive and it is time for my pain medication. I am positive that I am going to need it to make it through this night. I purposely drag my feet as I finish getting ready and at eight-thirty, Christian and I are both dressed and ready to go downstairs to meet the crowd that awaits us. Christian looks like Christian, too handsome for his own good and looking at him makes my heart hurt. I then force myself to remember the past month and despite how much remembering pains me, the sad feeling of loss disappears.

At the top of Carrick and Grace's staircase, Christian raises my hand and kisses it and we slowly walk to our awaiting guests. I am holding Christian's hand and everyone applauds once we make our way to the bottom of the staircase. Naturally, the first to meet us are our family. I spot my always gorgeous best friend and sister-in-law, Kate, who, despite being seven months pregnant, looks fabulous. She piled her long strawberry blonde hair on top of her head and is wearing emerald maternity cocktail dress that is an exact match to the color of her eyes. Kate knows I am not physically or emotionally ready for this, but she encourages me with a beaming smile and carefully hugs me.

"Ana, I am not sure I can handle this," Kate whispers in my ear. I am unable to reply so I give her an extra squeeze.

_My best friend. My sitting on our apartment floor watching The Bachelor and drinking beer, best friend._

I follow Christian into the living room and we immediately encounter Reverend Johnson who married us. We spend several minutes speaking with him. He is the first person who will hound me tonight about how I am feeling. We quickly wrap up the conversation and venture further into the crowd.

My eyes rapidly scan the room so I can assess whom I want to avoid. There are several of Christian's business acquaintances that I barely tolerate on a good day. Working the room while Christian shakes all their hands, especially grates on my nerves tonight. Since this is about appearances, I will have to endure it. It is quite funny that Christian feels that he lost his precious control to Mia concerning this party. He was hell bent on cancelling it and I was hell bent on forcing it upon him. Why this petty issue brings me pleasure is childish and although I know it, I really do not care.

_Perhaps it is the Percocet._

I find this entire event an alien universe. Here is Ana. Sleepwalking through her life. Now at a loss when she once was so sure. Unfortunately, I have had to discuss my recent medical situation with everyone as we make the rounds of greeting everyone. I have repeated the phrase, "I am feeling much better. Thank you so very much." Until my mouth is dry and all I notice is the tray of champagne that's circulating around the room and cursing that I can't drink any due to my medication. I tell Christian I need to sit down a moment and head to Kate, who is sitting on an oversized sofa sipping on something clear and bubbliy. She takes a small sip and I watch her grimace as though she is sucking on a lemon. I am not positive which one of us is more pathetic, Kate for not being able to get up from a seated position or me for barely being able to sit down.

_How ironic is it that we are both fucked up due to our twats?_

"What the hell are you drinking?" I ask her and she grimaces.

"Sparkling white grape juice that Grace forced in my hand. I'm sure you'll get one too," She replies.

Kate scoots over for me as I groan when my ass hits the sofa. I watch Kate roll her eyes at me as if to say the way I feel is my own damn fault and I should just suck it up.

"I still don't understand why you went through with this dumb shit idea of Mia's. We both know you feel like hell. How you pulled the wool over Grace's eyes is amazing," Kate mutters low enough so that I can only hear.

"Yes, you do. Christian did not want this party and I wanted to force it upon him," I whisper back to her and she snorts at me.

"That statement was the most immature one I've heard you say. Ana, stop lying to me and yourself. You offer your own suffering trying to make him suffer. This, if you ask me, is an impossible feat. The time has come for you to realize this, Ana."

We grin brightly at an older woman who is on the board of Coping Together with us. Thank God she walked by without grilling me about my surgery.

"I do not sound immature and you promised me you would stop saying that shit, Kate," I reply. I really thought I had gotten her and Luke to understand.

"I also promised myself that after I had Ava I would never go through the hell that is being pregnant. Now, look at me. I could put a plate on my stomach and eat off of it," She replies.

Whether she meant it as a joke is irrelevant. We laugh aloud and several of Grace's stuck up friends stare our way. I even notice Christian and Elliot look in our direction and I roll my eyes, which Christian obviously doesn't appreciate, although Elliot to laughs in return and gives us a big wave.

"Elliot and Christian have been glued at the hip lately, haven't they?" I ask, watching the pair leaning against the bar and throwing back what appears to be bourbon with Carrick.

Kate shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah, but Elliot is happy that they have finally gotten so close again. But, fuck. How many shots have they had already? Shit. I'm beginning to wonder if these Grey men are alcoholics or not," she snorts and I slap her on her arm.

"They are not alcoholics. But it's too bad that alcohol could not have been Christian's vice."

Kate stares at me with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. "Are you getting soft on that, bastard?" She asks me incredulously while her eyes go to the men at the bar.

"Please, Kate. I'm not going to be his whipping post. Pardon the pun. Of course, I am not getting soft. I was merely making an observation," I reply.

_I lost my naiveté, girlfriend._

"Do you ever look at him with an overwhelming desire of murder?" Kate asks as she eyes Christian.

I do not immediately answer her, which draws those green eyes to my profile speculatively.

"No…not murder. Orange isn't my color." I deadpan, which sends us into another fit of giggles.

"Changing the subject, where is Ray?"

"He's on his way. He called me before we came down. I think he is bringing his girlfriend, but he didn't come out and say so."

Kate smiles. "I'm glad. Ray has been alone too long. I'm sure his nads are the size of bowling balls and as blue as your dress," She exclaims loudly. I gape at her.

"Katherine Grey! Holy, shit! Who the fuck wants to think of their father like that?" I do my best to sound outraged, but just watching Kate howl with laughter has me joining. She is too funny for her own good.

We once again garner looks from some party guests who must have never heard of having fun. I suppose flipping them off would be inappropriate.

We quietly watch people roaming around the house and then out into the tent. Eventually, Kate thinks of a certain guest she hasn't caught a glimpse of yet.

"Why haven't we been graced by _**Cruella de Ville**_? I thought you said _**she**_ was on the invite list?" Kate continues to look around the room and regarding everyone.

"I am positive we would have heard _**her **_broom land," I murmured in reply.

We watch our mother-in-law approach and Kate starts giggling and leans into me. "Here comes your gross sparkling white grape juice. Hope it mixes well with all that medicine you are doped up on."

Sure enough, Grace is carrying a drink and beams at me.

"Here sweet girl. I know you must be dying for something stronger, but alcohol and pain medication could equal another hospital stay, only this time in a coma."

Grace is being serious, but I can't help but laugh since I believe a coma would be preferable to this current situation. Grace gives me a sly smile.

"Ana Grey, did you take your Percocet earlier than you are supposed to? All I have heard from you two girls is giggling." She is amused.

"Not at all. We are just being silly," I respond and Kate starts to laugh again. I am reminded of her fits of giggling whenever we would smoke pot in college.

"Oh, and that is why this family is so blessed. The both of you and Mia bring nothing but sunshine in our lives," She murmurs. I hear a certain amount of gratitude within her words as she kisses us both on the top of our heads.

_Grace, we are all sitting underneath a dark cloud._

The doorbell chimes, Kate, and I look toward the entryway to see if it's Ray and I catch Christian looking at me. His face is undecipherable.

There _**she **_is. Dressed all in black as usual and waiting in the entryway as if _**she **_expects the party to rush to _**her. **_Grace excuses herself and heads to the _**old family friend**_. After a brief hug and two air kisses, Grace leads _**her **_into the room and Kate and I can hear Grace tell _**her**_ that _**she **_will have to come and greet the guests of honor.

I feel Kate tense up and she sucks in a deep breath. I notice how Christian watched my expression as _**she **_entered the room and then turned his back as though he did not want the _**bitch **_to notice him.

Grace has led _**Cruella **_to where I am sitting with Kate and it is as if evil and cold air trails behind her. "Fuck me, sideways," Kate murmurs.

"Well, Elena, this is one half of the happy couple. I suppose my son is in the midst of the guests. Ana is taking it easy and not up to walking around to socialize."

I have no idea how the precious woman that is Grace Trevelyan Grey can like this...this..._**thing. **_

"Hello, Ana, dear. I do hope you are feeling better. I know what a scare that was for the family. Did you receive my flowers, dear?" _**Her **_face has been lifted so many times it is pulled tighter than a cat's asshole.

I must spend too much time scrutinizing the emotion I can see in _**her **_eyes, because Kate nudges my blue high heel. _**Cruella's **_eyes are ice-cold blue and any idiot can see that _**she **_despises me as much as I despise _**her. **_How is it possible that Kate and I are the only two people that see this?

_I am so fucking done staying quiet around this bitch and no longer care who is around to witness it. I will figure this out. _

"I do and I did," I practically hiss at _**her **_and keep my own blue eyes boring into _**hers. **_

My reply and reaction to _**Cruella **_causes Grace to look at me in surprise.

I feel Kate's shoulders slightly shake as she tries to stifle a laugh. The _**bitch **_chooses to ignore me and throws me _**her **_best fake smile. I think it is a smile; _**her **_face is so full of Botox it barely moves.

"I am so glad to hear that. You did give Christian quite a fright," She adds after grabbing a glass of champagne off a passing tray. _**She**_ just had to throw in a little dig.

Grace looks at _**her **_with a frown and it gives pause to wonder if Grace is asking herself why _**Elena **_would say that to me. I can hear Kate snarl which averts Grace's gaze from me to Kate.

"Excuse me, dears. I see some people I should go speak with." Kate and I watch _**her **_slither away and it's not in Christian's direction. Shocking.

Grace looks me in the face. "Is there something I need to know, Ana?" She asks and if I manage this lie successfully, I deserve an Oscar.

"Grace, what do you mean?" I can play dumb.

"What just passed between you and Elena...it was...odd," Grace replies softly, not wanting anyone to overhear.

"Pshh...Odd does not cover it," murmurs Kate and now I watch confusion cloud Grace's face.

_What, Grace? Was MY behavior inappropriate? __**Hers**_ _never is._

Katherine decides to take this opportunity and run with it.

"Ana, how in the world would _**she **_know if you gave Christian a fright? Better yet, why would she point it out to you?"

Kate has turned her hugely pregnant body toward me and purposely asked me in a suspicious manner. Grace's eyes dart between both of us, but before she can delve any further, the doorbell chimes and this time it is my daddy and his lovely girlfriend.

Grace helps me up from the sofa while Ray and Angela walk over and I hug them. For some reason, being around this man brings me comfort and even his scent is enough to calm me down. He is what love feels like. His embrace erases the insanity that is my life and takes me away from this…party…payback…this place.

"How's my Annie feeling? Are you doing better than when we talked earlier in the week?" He asks in a soft voice that he only used when I was sick and he brought me chicken noodle soup.

"Oh, daddy! I am feeling better.. But I will be honest; I know that this party is going to keep me in the bed for the next two days." Ray and Angela both laugh when I say this.

"Oh, that is wonderful news, Ana. When we came to the hospital that day, we were so worried. You looked like a small girl curled up in that bed. It took all I had not to cry." Angela tells me in a lovely and kind voice.

Angela is an attractive woman in her mid fifties and is a fifth grade teacher. I adore her and am so happy for the both of them.

Ray smiles at someone behind me and I hear Christian and Elliot greet him and they all shake hands.

"Son, it looks like you've been taking good care of my Annie. She doesn't look like she just had major surgery less than two weeks ago," Ray tells Christian and pats him on the shoulder.

Elliot reeks of alcohol before he opens his mouth. "Ray, you know the great CEO didn't care about anything other than work these two weeks. If anyone has nursed your daughter to health it has been her gorgeous brother-in-law." Elliot drunkenly roars at his own joke, which causes Ray to chuckle, and earns him a dirty look from his younger brother.

"Ray, we've all tried to care for this stubborn daughter of yours. Luckily, she is tougher than she looks and is healing quite quickly," Christian replies and then greets Angela.

"Well, I am grateful to you all for taking care of her. She sure had her old man worried. Now, where is the bar? You two are smashed so I know to follow you. I need a cold one."

Grace has appeared from out of nowhere and whisks Angela away to God knows where.

"Follow me Papa Steele. I shall lead the way." Elliot is so drunk the only place I can see him leading my daddy is into a wall.

"You good, Annie?" I nod and send him and my drunken brother-in-law on their merry way. I giggle as I watch daddy practically holding Elliot upright.

I feel Christian looking down at me, although I do not return his gaze. "Anastasia, how are you feeling? I assume it's not too good since you have been sitting with Kate for quite a while. Do you need to go back upstairs to rest?" Christian places his arm around my shoulder at the exact moment I watch _**Cruella **_stroll in front of us.

Looking up at my husband, I give him a beaming smile. He will not get the satisfaction of watching the effect _**she **_has on me.

"No, I'm good for now.. If you do notice that I am missing in action in a few minutes, I'll be upstairs. My medicine is due and I think I might lay down for a bit too."

"Okay, baby. If you need me, I will be back at the bar with our fathers and my extremely hammered brother," Christian says.

_God, what I could do to you with a hammer._

"Try not to get into Elliot's condition. I do not believe I could get you upstairs and Taylor is not here to help you," I say softly.

"Jason needed to spend time with his Gail. We didn't need him anyway. You should find one of your bookworms that you employ and I'm going to continue to try and drink my father under the table."

Christian kisses the top of my head and strolls toward the drinking contest. I turn to make my way back to Kate, but she is no longer on the sofa, which means I will have to circulate the room or head upstairs. My luck has several guests hovering by the stairs and I'm forced to speak with them. Half of them ask if there is significance to our third anniversary and why we had a party. Laughing, I explain this party was an excuse Mia gave to throw a shindig. After the millionth time I say this, it's as if I conjured her up, because a flash of purple satin rushes my way. Mia is obviously tipsy but she remembers not to hug me too tightly.

"Ana! Are you having fun? This is just the best idea ever! I have been dancing my ass off! Oh, shit! How do you feel? This has not been too much for you has it?" I think my ear drums may burst from Mia's loud voice. Each word ran together in an alcohol infused tornado. I grin at her indulgently.

"Yes, sweet girl. I'm good. No need to worry. I've been sitting with Kate anyway. I just need to go upstairs and take my medicine," I reply to her vomit of words. Her tall frame looms over me and I find it funny as she sways due to the alcohol. She then suddenly she grabs both of my arms.

"That is sooo good, Ana! Listen! I am in heaven and the reason why is that I have been out under the pergola, making out with Kate's older brother, Ethan. He is outrageously hot! I cannot believe he lived with you two in college and you never tapped that ass!"

Mia says this so loudly a few people who are walking by snigger at her.

"Holy, fuck Mia! Don't let your lunatic brothers hear you say that shit! They'd beat poor Ethan to a pulp! Even if you are drunk and are funny as hell." Smiling at her, I pull her into a hug, careful not to hurt myself. You cannot help from loving Mia Grey.

_To be that carefree and happy. _

I watch Mia wobble her way outside to where Ethan must be, and make it the guestroom we have been staying in. I take my pain medication and lay down to rest. I can't help to pray that I fall asleep and wake up this party being over. I close my eyes and eventually feel my pain begin to dissipate. There is medication that eases physical pain and yet there is none to ease emotional pain. This pain. My pain. It comes and it goes. It is as delicate as every breath I take. Entering, interrupting and laying its claim inside this void I now have. I want to fight it and I am doing my best. However, there are times when I forget who to blame. Christian or my stupidity? Lying there a while longer, I pull myself up slowly so I can fix my face and lip-gloss. I gaze at my own reflection and practice another fake smile. Good job, Ana.

Back at the party, I search for Kate, who is nowhere to be found. Ray, Carrick, and Elliot are still at the bar and are miraculously capable of standing upright. My eyes catch Angela sitting with Grace and a few of Grace's friends. Then it occurs to me that Kate is not the only person I haven't seen. Looking back at the bar, I note that my husband is no longer there. From out of nowhere, it registers that Cruellais not slithering around either. I become more than suspicious. I go in search for at least one of them, but have no such luck. I go from room to room, but don't bother with the upper floors since Christian has one of his henchmen posted at the top of the stairs so that guests cannot access that area of the house. The last room I go in on this end of the house is the kitchen and the only people I find are the caterers. I am walking faster than I feel like and my eyes have narrowed as I head into the tent out back. I walk around the tent, but it is futile as well. My brow is furrowed as I think about the next logical location I should search.

_Where in the fuck?_

Oh, yes.

Perhaps the end of the house that Grace closed for the party. Since I'm already outside, I take the easy way that is through the back yard. I have barely made three steps on the lawn when I can feel the someone behind me and I know exactly whom it is.

"Have you been out here all night waiting to see if I leave the house, Luke or have you put a microchip in me?" I turn and ask him in an amused voice.

Towering above me and dressed in a suit like Christian demands, Luke gives me a look that conveys how fucking bored he has been.

"No, Ana, I haven't. I have alternated between walking the grounds and hanging out with the caterers since they keep giving me food. Oh, and I got the phone number of one hottie who works for them," Luke replies with a wicked grin.

"Luke Sawyer, you are such a horn dog! You'd better listen when I warn you you're going to catch something you can't wash off. Well, I guess it's time to trail your principle in the dark because I'm walking to the other side of the house." I sound annoyed with what I am doing.

"Pray tell, why are you going there?" He asks in a confused voice while he trails behind me like a puppy.

I choose to ignore him and take my heels off since they are sinking in the grass, but the grass is too damp so I decide to take the stone walkway. All I hear is crickets since Luke can somehow walk without making a sound. Then I notice that the windows of Grace's conservatory are all on. A shadow moves by the windows and I squint my eyes to see who it is. Luke grabs my elbow and pulls me back.

"What the fuck?" I whisper, looking irritated.

For some stupid fucking reason, Luke opens his jacket, reaches for his gun holster, and pulls out his Glock. I gape at him.

"Who in the hell are you planning to shoot? Have you lost your damn mind?" I am still whispering.

"Ana, I do not know who that is or what is going on. Get behind me," He orders me in an authoritative tone.

_Yeah, I will get right on that Lucas Sawyer._

"Fuck that, Luke!" Walking faster so that I can see better, I make out the shadow.

Kate.

I turn to Luke and hiss at him, "It's just Kate!"

Speaking louder than I intended, Kate glances in our direction and sees me. For some reason, Kate raises her left arm and moves it in a gesture for me to go away. That is when I notice she is holding something in her right hand and is pointing it inside the conservatory. This just spurs me on and when Kate quickly looks at me again, she throws that same left arm up and holds her hand up for me to stop.

"What in the fuck is she doing?" Luke asks in a low voice. We are now beside one another.

"The question is what the fuck is in her hand?" I am so confused.

"It's lit up. It's her phone," Luke replies.

"What? What in the hell?

We walk until we are close enough to Katherine that we can hear her breathe. More important than that, we can hear people talking, and one voice I hear is Christian's.

Kate gives me a pained and sad look, but there is a hard and a murderous look glittering in her eyes. Luke noticed and tries to block my view, but I struggle from his grasp. Standing right behind Kate, we can see that it is in fact her phone. She is recording something. Kate puts her finger on her lips for us to stay quiet.

_By God, if I hear Christian's voice, I am getting close enough to see who in the hell he is talking to. _

I move a little and my shoulders are touching Kate's, who throws Luke a look that could mean get ready to hold me back. I recognize the voice of the person Christian is talking to before my eyes ever see her. I look at Kate and Luke after my gaze caught its prey. Luke finally sees them and moves right beside me and he raises an arm in front of me. Looking at him, I mouth, "Move it."

My husband's back is to us, he is holding a drink in his hand, and his head is hanging down. Standing very close to him with _**her **_back to us as well, is _**Cruella fucking de Ville **_and _**she **_is rubbing _**her **_hand down Christian's arm in a manner that borderlines on sexual.

I lean into Kate's ear and barely whisper, "How long have you been recording this?"

"Five minutes or so. She cornered him by the bathroom and I followed them down here. I've caught bits and pieces of what they are saying, but they are talking too low," She replies in a whisper softer than my own.

"Whatever happens, do not stop recording a second of this." Kate nods.

I make a silent step closer and Kate and Luke follow. This would be funny if it didn't feel so creepy. Just like conjoined triplets, we inch even closer and are now in the doorway. I do not know if it's because we are in the room or whether they are now speaking louder, but now every word they say is loud and clear.

"So does my little friend have her facts wrong, Christian? If she doesn't, then explain why have you been keeping all of this from me for years? Me, your closest friend in the world and the only person who really knows you." _**Elena **_purrs to Christian, whose head remains down and he doesn't reply.

"What the fuck is it to you, _**Elena?**_ How is my life any of your fucking business? Explain why I have to tell you anything?" Christian sounds...odd.

The plastic _**bitch **_laughs loudly at his response and _**it**_ shakes _**its**_ head.

"So it IS true, then? Oh, how priceless, Christian! What did I say from the beginning of your delusional idea? Do you remember, love?" _**Her **_voice is loud enough for us to make out what _**she **_is saying, while _**her **_lips are to Christian's ear. I feel Kate's eyes on my face and I see that Luke is still holding that fucking gun although it is now pointed at the ground.

"_**Elena**_, yes,I remember and I don't give a fuck about what you had to say. That had shit to do with anything! In addition, why the fuck are you running around talking jack shit about me in the first fucking place. Are you blind to the damage that could bring down on me?" Christian does not sound odd anymore. He sounds fucking pissed.

Thank God, they have not moved and still have their backs to us.

The _**old hag **_laughs again and he turns to look at _**her**_. We all hold our breath. I know if we make the slightest movement, he will catch it in his peripheral vision.

"I am very glad that my life amuses you, _**Elena. **_If you laugh in my face one more..."

"You'll do what? That's right; you won't do a goddamn thing, Christian." _**She **_sneers at him.

I am truly shocked to the core that anyone has the nerve to speak to Christian this way. No one ever dares to speak out of line to the almighty Christian Grey.

"So tell me, does the little ninny have the slightest clue that her husband returned to his Dominant ways half a second after she married him?" _**She **_gloats.

Christian throws his glass against the wall and Kate and I both jump.

"What the fuck do you think? Do you see me walking up to Anastasia and announcing that I have been fucking and beating submissives practically our entire marriage? Do you think I'm fucking stupid, _**Elena**_?" He shouts.

Even though I already know this, hearing my husband say it feels like a punch in my gut.

Christian's anger does not faze _**the old family friend **_whatsoever and _**she **_continues laughing at him.

"You poor, clueless boy. Yes, I actually do think you're stupid. If I didn't know what a useless mouse of a girl your wife is, there might be a chance I would pity her. Why didn't you just divorce her, you fool? Don't get me wrong, I can't stand her, but do you have the slightest clue what you've been doing with her life? Or don't you care? Perhaps, she looks too much like your mommy?"_**Cruella **_asks him the question I have wanted to ask him as well.

Christian does not answer. He turns away from us again and places his arms on the wall in front of him. It looks as if he is holding it up.

_**She **_moves right behind him and _**she **_lays _**her **_hand on his back.

_What the fuck is this? He lets her touch him?_

"Christian? Christian! I asked you a question and now I demand that you answer me!" The authority _**she **_speaks to him with is mesmerizing to watch. This is like watching a soap opera.

Christian stands up and he grows taller. He turns to face _**her **_again and it places us in jeopardy of being caught. I swallow hard and watch Christian morph into the Christian I've seen many times. I see the fierce coldness about him just by staring at his profile. This is Christian the Dominant and the memories it brings feel like searing and green bile is rising in my throat.

"You seem to have forgotten that I am not a fifteen-year-old boy anymore. I no longer have to answer to you or anyone else in this world and you would be better off fucking remembering that! You do not bring me to heel any more, _**Elena! **_I'm staring at you as the Dominant that I am and I fucking stopped listening to you when I was twenty-one and no longer your submissive!" He roars at her.

_Oh. My. God. _

Kate, Luke, and I all gasp. We can't move and it's as though we are standing in cement. Then we watch _**Cruella **_face Christian. _**Her **_old and haggard ass that is wrapped in black saran wrap morphs the way we watched Christian's body do just moments ago. The _**bitch **_draws herself to her full height in an intimidating stance. Arrogant. Cold. Distant.

A Dominatrix.

_Kate's eyes dart to me. She was right all along._

"Oh, yes, you stopped being my submissive and being ordered to kiss my boots, and you can pull out the Dom I MADE YOU and try to make me cower all you want, but don't be too sure of yourself. I have enough on you to take you down with a snap of my fingers. You think you scare me, little boy? You're a fucking joke if you think you can! Remember what I said, Christian Grey...you are only the Dominant that you are because I fucking showed you the way it was done. You were fifteen-years-old and I taught you things that you fucking love and everything that you now need. You wouldn't even have GEH if it wasn't for me and my money! You'd be a fucking loser, just like I always told you. So, next time you dare pull out that Dominant in you, Christian, fucking go back to that fucked up fifteen-year-old boy you were when you cleaned my yard," _**She **_hisses at him.

Neither of them back away and they are locked in a staring contest that appears to be over who has the strongest Dom.

However, for me, and perhaps for Kate and Luke, I finally and _really heard _what Christian had already said.

Fifteen-year-old boy. Christian had been a fifteen-year-old child that this horrible _**creature **_molested into a BDSM lifestyle. Katherine is still recording every minute of this life-altering event. This Greek tragedy.

I am immediately struck with the force of this truth and my hands fly to my mouth. All of this time. His mother's best friend. Staying out until nearly midnight. With the _**pedophile **_that had made him into the monster he is today. Whatever remained of my love for him shatters into a million different pieces.

Before I'm aware and without even making a conscious decision, I head toward the two sick masters of BDSM who are having some sort of disgusting DOM showdown. I feel Luke try to grab my elbow before my presence is known, but I yank it away.

I square my shoulders and raise my head up high as I go to meet these two versions of the devil. One who is astoundingly beautiful physically and one whose disgusting ugliness breaks through _**her **_physically.

Neither scares nor intimidates me. They merely sicken me. Disgust me. Repulse me.

Christian and _**Elena **_are still looking at one another. His expression demonstrates rage, but an almost intimidated rage. _**Its **_expression is one of amusement at her prodigy and _**it **_actually appears as if _**she **_is turned on. I watch as _**her **_eyes look down and settle on Christian's cock as he snarls at _**her**_.

They never hear me approach.

I speak with a strength I do not believe I have ever felt and my voice is as hard and detached as a cold day in hell.

"_**Elena**_, from the moment I laid eyes on you I knew you were something that only the devil could conjure up, but for the life of me, I would have never guessed you were a pedophile who had spent six years molesting the fifteen-year-old son of your best friend." I had not intended to scream at them but I am lit up by hell.

Christian and _**Cruella's **_heads swing in my direction so fast I nearly laugh. The horrified look in _**her **_face is picture perfect and Christian looks completely shocked, his face drained of all blood.

I continue stalking toward them while they continue gaping at me.

I have crossed my arms, am face to face with the creature I married, and look into his pathetic gray eyes.

"So this _**old family friend **_and _**business partner **_is who taught you how to swing a cane and beat women? A fucking child molester, Christian? YOUR molester? How long did I hear you say it went on for? Oh, yes. Until you were twenty-one. In addition, you kissed her boots. Who would have thought the big, bad CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc was a boot kissing submissive?" I laugh bitterly.

"Christian, you were this old _**hag's **_little bitch. You do know that, right? Moreover, you still are. You. Are. A. Little. Bitch."

Christian's face continues to pale and he opens his mouth to speak only to snap it back shut and then he goes to grab my arm. I snatch it away and regard him with contempt.

"You will never touch me again. Not for the rest of your fucking existence, Christian Grey," I snarl at him.

The old _**bitch **_has obviously gotten over her initial horror and she is laughing. It is the most annoying sound I've ever heard.

"My, my. It's the little and stupid, Ana. I don't think he's wanted to touch you for a long time..."

"SHUT UP, _**ELENA**_! Not another fucking word better come out of your mouth!" Christian cuts her off before she tells me what I already know. What a fucked up pair of individuals.

_I can own your ass Grey._

"Yeah, _**Elena**_, You'd better shut up and remember whose house you're standing in. Grace might hear you." I taunt them and I start to feel a raging inferno of hatred rising inside of me.

Christian reaches for me once again. "Ana, listen, I don't know what you think you..." I jerk away once more.

I realize that I have terrified him by pointing out that Grace could find this out.

"Fuck you, Grey! Get your sick, perverted hands off of me," I hiss at him.

I see anger replacing the terror that had been in his eyes and I turn my attention back to the _**pedophile**_.

"You are a truly abhorrent excuse for a human being. How many other teenage boys you molested and turned into sadistic bastards? I won't refer to you as Cruella_** de Ville **_anymore. Your new name will reflect what you really are, a fucking _**pedophile**_," I shout in her face.

"Shut that shit up, Ana! It was not like that at all. It helped me and _**Elena **_is not a fucking pedophile!" Christian is screaming at me now and that is when Luke enters the room.

Christian watches Luke standing with his hands folded in front of him and Luke is wearing that impassive expression he has.

"Sawyer, go back outside. Mrs. Grey doesn't need you at the moment." Christian tells him in a condescending manner.

"I disagree with that statement," Luke replies. Did anyone else notice he didn't refer to Christian as, 'Sir"?

That is when Christian sees Katherine and once he realizes that she is recording this, he points his finger at her, his face blood red with rage.

"Get in here, Katherine and give me that fucking phone! I. Said. Now." The monster without his control has jumped the fence at the zoo.

Christian is so full of rage that you can see every vein on his head and neck popping out while he screams at his brother's wife.

Kate doesn't move. Smirking at Christian, she holds her phone out further. "Say cheese, Grey. I even have it on zoom." Her words venomous, although spoken as she gives him an All American smile.

Christian makes a move in her direction, but Luke gets in his way and stares him down. Christian's face is hard and it is obvious these two men are a breath away from being in an outright brawl.

I am positive Luke is no longer employed.

Christian steps to the side of Luke and stares at Kate. His words are as hard and cold as his eyes. He is tearing at his hair with both of his hands.

_Out of control, Christian?_

"Katherine, you will sign an NDA and you will sign it tonight," He spits out at her.

"I'm not signing shit, Grey. Have you had your pedophile lover sign one?" Kate uses her chin to point at _**Cruella**_.

"Tsk, tsk, Christian. Such obnoxious women who now feel as if they have an ounce of power and control over you, surround you. In addition, it appears they feel they have some power over me as well. Both of you little girls need a cane across your back and I bet you would shut your fucking mouths. No, I would shut you bitches up with a ball gag. Do you even know who you are messing around with?"

Kate throws her head back as she howls in laughter.

"Yeah, you sick whore! We know exactly who we are messing with. A plain old HAIRDRESSER! A woman who went to a low class cosmetology school to learn how to perm and color hair. If it were not for this bastard brother-in-law of mine and the money he gives you hand over fist, you would be cutting hair in some low level beauty shop in fucking Bremerton, and after each hair cut your repulsive self would have to sweep the hair up with a fucking broom. Probably the broom you fly around on. You see _**Elena, **_who we are messing with is you, and you are nothing but a two bit disgusting joke!"

I think _**she **_looks shocked that Kate has just shot her with buckshot, but _**its **_face is so stiff from too many Botox injections that it is hard to tell. Christian's dumb ass is just standing there as his eyes dart between the three people who could potentially expose the worst secret of his life.

Only Katherine isn't finished. "Another thing, you plastic _whore. _Your last name may still be Lincoln, but that's because after your husband threw you away for an improved and younger model, you chose to keep his name for social standing. Your name being Lincoln doesn't do shit for your social standing nor is anyone impressed with your three little beauty shops. You walk around dressed to the nines and are only able to wear that two carat diamond ring on your scrawny finger is due to the dumb fuck named Christian Grey. His money and his gross name get you in parties like this one tonight. If Christian were not paying you like the whore that you are, people would walk over your homeless body while you lay out in the gutter. Fuck both of you! You sick fucks deserve each other!"

My husband is resting his hands on the back of a sofa and is staring down. He appears to be defeated. A man lost at sea. I want to spit in his face.

As for _**her**_, _**it **_decides to turn her attention and verbal attack on me. A long and bony finger is pointed at me.

"As for you, Ana…Anastasia, the idiot of Seattle! You are a weakling. A pathetic little bookworm who has been watching as I walk all over you with your husband's consent for your entire relationship! Were you too afraid to confront me while you waited for Christian or afraid of what Christian and his needs would take over and do to you? You tiny, little coward. If you could not even take a paddle from Christian, do you think you could take me on? What a fucking joke of a little girl!" _**Elena **_screams.

"_**Elena**_, that is enough. Shut your goddamn mouth and quit speaking that way to Anastasia," Christian tells her.

That son of a bitch sick fuck told _**her**_ about what he did. _**She**_ probably knew every horrible and sick thing I allowed him to do to me. That is what they probably stayed out at night discussing-how to make your bitch behave. I keep my eyes locked on the _**pedophiles **_and as _**she**_ glares at me. I know _**she**_ thinks _**she's**_ scaring me with _**her**_ size.

Finally, Luke opens his mouth and looks me in the eye and I see that his eyes are filled with a dangerous edge around them. "Do. Not. Listen. To. This. Dried. Up. Whore." He tells me.

Luke's resolve envelopes me and whatever fog of insecurity _**it **_attempted to confuse me with is lifted.

"_**Bitch, **_oops, sorry, I meant _**pedophile**_. If _**you **_are trying to intimidate me with the fact that _**you **_are as tall and as wide as a Green Bay fucking Packer, _**you**_ are out of _**your**_ sick child molesting mind," replying to _**its **_words that were meant to break me.

Kate laughs. "Ana, you're right. She is the size of a linebacker. I had never noticed that! Sick child molesting linebacker!" She spits out.

"Enough with calling _**her**_..." That is my husband as he begins to defend this _**creature.**_

"Shut the fuck up, Christian! The fact that you are defending a woman who molested and abused you for six years is disgusting enough, but the fact that you call her you're only friend and are in business with her is just fucking revolting. Your mother's BEST FRIEND‼ She's had her claws in you for what, fifteen years? But you are still her little bitch, aren't you?"

Disgust has painted my eyes. My abdominal pain has increased and is exuding throughout my body, but the hatred for this woman overpowers my thinking. This is what bloodlust tastes like.

_Remind me to thank Ray for sending me to those self-defense classes._

I grab hold of _**her **_hair, pull her head down to me, take my foot, and slam it on the inside of _**her **_right knee, causing _**her **_leg to go out from under _**her. It **_cries out in pain. I raise _**her **_face slightly and punch it twice, once near _**its **_left eye and then _**its **_nose and we all hear it easily break, weakened by too many nose jobs.

"I'm a weakling? I can't take _**your **_skank ass on, _**you **_goddamn _**whore**_? Then stand up and fight me, _**Mistress! **_Wipe _**your **_blood off my fucking hands and arms! FUCK YOU!" Whatever noise I am speaking to her with is past a scream. It is a primal, visceral hatred and it is coming from the back of my throat in a howl.

Christian has made a valiant attempt to protect his _**only friend, **_although I landed every punch while he was trying to pull me away.

For my last act of humiliation, I knee _**it **_in the gut and drag _**it **_toward the door to the backyard by _**its **_hair. _**It **_is screaming and cursing loudly while _**it **_orders her little bitch to get me off her.

"Anastasia! Stop! Stop! Calm the fuck down, Ana. This isn't YOU!" HE is yelling at me while I fight and scramble from his reach. Christian's words spur me on. I have the strength of one-hundred men as hell laps around my ankles.

Suddenly, this scene of honest to God insanity is brightly illuminated as all the lights to the back yard have been turned on. We are surrounded by Christian's security team who had their guns drawn and only holster them once they see who we all are.

Or who we all used to be.

We will never be the same again.

Kate's voice is miles away and begging me to stop. Luke and Christian are manhandling me, but I am rabid and out of my mind. Whether it is just adrenaline or raw hatred, neither of them cannot restrain me or stop me from pulling the _**pedophile **_farther in the yard by her hair. With _**her**_ old ass lying face down on the grass, I spit on her and then I hear that _**thing **_calling for Christian to stop me. Christian has me by the waist in an attempt to get me under control. I feel the words that are warm but loud next to my ear and they beg me to calm down.

However, I am incapable of calming down. I stomp my foot in the middle of _**its **_back and _**it **_cries out and when I realize that the arms around my waist are those of Christian Grey, I scream as though I am being murdered. It is only then that a sharp and nearly incapacitating pain where I had surgery roars through me and I yelp out from the pain. I scream at this stranger named Christian Grey that he is hurting my abdomen by the grip he has on me and he automatically releases me.

"Sit down, Anastasia. Please. You have probably re injured yourself, so, just please, please sit down and take some deep breaths. Please, calm down. We will sort this shit out, I swear." Christian murmurs softly.

Christian is speaking to me as though I am a child and has the nerve to stroke my hair. The red aberration in my eyes immediately clears and I look at this person in astonishment. A person who is beautiful and who I lost myself in whenever I looked in his eyes. But my heart obscured who this person actually is. I raise a hand that is covered in the blood of his child molester and watch his beautiful face swing to the other side from my blow. I have now marked him with _**her **_blood as my hand covered his cheek with it. But then again, he was already covered in it, wasn't he? Resigned to my disgust, he walks away and orders the members of his security team to leave.

Christian begins walking around in circles and tearing at his hair with both hands and is muttering words to himself. I finally give into the pain, bend over, and am taking in huge gulps of air. Luke is squatting beside me and saying something, but my brain cannot comprehend it. I no longer hear Kate's voice, so I straighten up to look for her. My God, the woman still has sense enough about her that she is still recording this monumental event of brief psychosis.

_**It **_groans and turns onto _**its **_back and calls out for Christian.

Then I see something I will never forget as long as I live. Christian Grey, the man I married on May 12, 2012, bends down to help his _**child molester **_up.

_I will kill him. I. Am. Going. To. Fucking. Kill. Christian. Grey._

I will never be able to tell you what happened. People bore witness to what I tried to do, but my eyes never saw a thing. The only thing I know is that watching Christian go to that _**thing **_in order to help _**it **_drove me over that tiny ledge I was barely teetering on.

Luke and Katherine told me what I did. My eyes and my mind can never see it clearly. It lives inside my head behind a haze of rage, hate, and a thirst for vengeance. But it remains hidden.

Luke was holding me up when I whipped around, reached inside his jacket, and got my hands on his gun. His large and strong hands nearly had a hold of my wrists, but they wet from the damp grass and _**its**_ blood. My bare feel slipped on the dampened grass, but I somehow managed to not fall over. I nearly had Luke's gun raised and pointed at Christian. Seconds from shooting my husband, my heavily pregnant friend and Luke grabbed me, screaming my name and frantically wrestling the gun from my hands.

I will sometimes attempt to trace it all in my mind, but only hear faint screams and yelling as Christian told my very pregnant best friend to move out of the way before she got hurt. I vaguely recall the voices of Luke and Christian blasting in my ears as they fought me until Luke's strong and solid power overpowered me and tore the gun from my hands.

My consciousness will always feel Luke holding me while Kate weeps and caresses my face and hair. It will always smell of blood. I will barely recall my husband sitting on the grass with his knees bent and head hanging between them, both hands pulling on his hair.

None of us were aware of what would happen seconds later.

How those few seconds were about to change everything.

The voice of a man. The voice of a confused and angry man.

Demanding to know what in the fuck was going on.

Why did I hear screaming?

Why is _**Elena Lincoln **_in my back yard and struggling to stand with blood all over _**her**_?

Why is Ana's dress torn and why is she covered in blood, Christian?

Luke, what in the hell has gone on down here?

However, the most damning question that would forever seal fate… Katherine, whose phone is on the ground?

It all happened so fast and yet…so slow.

Carrick.

Kate, terrified, wide-eyed, and incapable of answering Carrick.

Katherine. That phone's red recording light is on.

Someone explain this fucking shit to me.

My incessant and soul scraping sobs.

The stuttering mumbles of the _**pedophile**_ accusing me of assaulting _**her.**_

Carrick demands answers from his mute and youngest son who blankly stared at Katherine's phone that is now in his father's hand.

Carrick's youngest son, knowing what it meant for him and his entire family.

Rushing down the yard in a red dress that not long ago could have signified beauty, or manipulation, or being lied to for the past fifteen years by her best friend and youngest son.

Grace.

Her questions.

Ana, are you hurt?

Katherine, why is Ana bleeding?

Why is Ana's dress torn?

Luke, what has happened?

Noticing her husband, son, and best friend at the end of the back yard.

Running to them.

Her red dress.

All I know is Luke carrying me as he held onto Kate's arm so that she wouldn't fall.

We made it to the tent.

The house is now dark.

Luke sat down with me wrapped in his arms with Kate beside us, her head on Luke's shoulder.

We all knew what was about to happen down there.

It had been hiding in plain sight for fifteen-years.

Guilt? Highly doubtful.

Retribution? For one who is unwilling to be a victim?

Time marches on, as we sit there not sure what we should do.

A bomb on the far end of the yard.

Then we heard it.

Katherine's hands covered her ears.

Sobbing against Luke's neck.

In the distance.

Shouting. Screaming. Yelling.

Grace.

Her cries of one simple word…

Why?

A friendly reminder from Anna-Y'all don't PM me or leave a review and say, "Anna, you lied and said the Grey family wouldn't be hurt from finding out about Christian being a Dominant and still a part of a BDSM lifestyle along with the subs or why Ana has left."

Because I have not lied about that.

Sorry if it took you two hours to read this.


	20. Chapter 20

All rights to the characters and story of FSoG belong to E. L. James.

Forgive the grammar and spelling mistakes. I did edit it, but not in my usual OCD manner.

_In Chapter 19, Ana finally broke. When I started to write chapter 20, it occurred to me that I wanted to hear Ana's inner monologue and use a Stream of Consciousness Narrative. Therefore, this chapter is Ana's inner monologue, her thoughts, and insights on when/what/why. If some of Ana's thoughts seem illogical, irrational, or crazy, they are what I would expect from a person in such an insane situation._

_**Sunday, May 10**__**th**__**, 2015-June 3**__**rd**__**, 2015 **_

_Bellevue/Seattle, Washington_

_Ana's POV_

The magic elixir of Demerol and Phenergan. Surgical incision reopened. Twelve new and wonderful staples. Two stitches in my middle finger. My middle finger. Ironic. The first of my many fuck you's. Another hard hospital exam room table in an emergency department. I've begun to feel the medicine flowing within my veins and my discomfort begins to ease and my mind is starting to melt into a fuzzy haze. I am still able to hear and understand the quiet voices around me. One belonging to a nurse. Another of the doctor who is answering Christian's inquisition, "Your wife seems to have caused herself further damage. This is a set back, blah, blah, blah…" All I'm doing is looking at the four people around me. Three who know the truth, one that I'm not sure what he knows, and my father, who only knows his natural klutz of a daughter fell down outside and clearly got fucked up.

We're waiting for fifteen minutes to pass before we can leave since the doctor wants to see if I have any reaction to the shot. Fifteen minutes. We've been here two hours and the only time the elephant in the room was addressed was when Ray went for coffee and that was when Carrick and Kate were coming up with excuses to give Elliot and Mia about the state I'm in. I hear the underlying sarcasm in Kate's question, "Well, they're going to wonder…" A bandaged hand. Staples that closed up my surgical site, yet nothing to sew up this hole in my chest. Christian's eyes, his stupid, stupid eyes as he asks me how I could have complete disregard for my health and behave the way I did. I would wonder about his nerve at asking such a question and then my drug infused haze lifts for a second and I realize who he is. Maybe I'm being too melodramatic. Yeah, melodramatic. After all, he is Christian Grey. So, another fifteen minutes in this small room that is full of something oppressive, what? Dread? Confusion? Resentment? Hate? Oh, it is safe to say it is all of those. Again, Ana. Melodramatic.

I am exhausted and dizzy and I hear Kate telling me to just give in to the medicine. "Ana, just lay down." If my body can begin to relax this much, why do I still feel like exposed electrical wires? Why do I hear the rain on the window and recall the dreary morning that reflects my dreary feelings that fill my marrow and a gratitude that I'm unable to stand up and scream out the truth this rain is pouring upon us? Yesterday was warm and lovely and look how it turned out. So I revel in the typical Washington weather because I know that it will eventually cease. The jokes life play on us cease. The pain another inflicts upon us will cease. But does the pain that we inflict upon ourselves ever cease? My heavy eyes can no longer win the battle and the last face I see is Katherine's and it's etched with worry and eyes full of fury.

My head begins to roll on someones shoulder and I'm roused from my temporary stupor. We've arrived at our temporary home, Carrick and Grace's and I feel myself being carried bridal style inside the house and I know by whom. He smells like himself and I know this because my face is in his neck. He smells like Christian. Christian Grey. He is six feet and two inches tall and has copper hair and gray eyes. This is the man that I love. But then I'm torn from the darkness I've been surrounded by and hear the voice of Lucas Sawyer, "Let me open the front door for you, Sir." That's when I remember. Ana, you cannot love the devil.

Thanks to having a mother-in-law who is a physician, I have been knocked out from several injections of pain medication. After being asleep for two straight days, I jolt awake when I feel someone touching my hand. It is Grace and she is cleaning up my hand. "Hello, sleeping beauty. How do you feel? Time for this bandage to come off and let these stitches get some air." I don't reply and continue to watch what she's doing with my hand. Grace smiles brightly. The smile doesn't reach her eyes and in that instance, despite still being groggy from a drug induced, two day sleep, I know. I know that smile contains questions she would like me to answer. Oh, Grace. There are some truths that should remain buried.

Yes, I agree I need a shower and my teeth feel disgusting. No. I can get up on my own, but fuck no, she will not hear of it. I truly love you, Grace, but please go away. Please. I want to be alone. I need to be alone. But no. I'm automatically helped to the bathroom and then placed in the shower, although I cannot catch a fucking break as I wash my hair. My precious mother-in-law has alerted the calvary and I hear both Mia and Christian talking with her in the adjoining bedroom. "I brought you a fresh nightgown, Ana.". No, Christian, I don't need your help to take a shower and if you come near me I will probably physically die. Once I am gone and he is looking around the rubble, will he know that he is the reason I am dead? The reason that the majority of my being has died? No, of course he won't. Again, Ana. Melodramatic. You have read too many fiction manuscripts.

Mia chatters away in the bathroom as she helps me dry off and get dressed. Yes, I know it is blue, sweetheart, and thank you for saying it makes the blue in my eyes stand out. Chatter, chatter, chatter. Giggle, giggle, giggle. I love her because she is my sister and she's exuberant and full of life and optimism, but she shouldn't touch me. I'll taint her with my jaded reality and the disgusting knowledge I am aware of. Disgusting, humiliating, and vile. I walk around with this inside my veins and yet I laugh and smile and pretend to be alright. "I'll just braid your hair, Ana." That is fine, because when I walk out of this bathroom with my hair braided, your sick brother and his mommy issues will pass out when he sees me. The sick fuck who has splintered my heart and has left me a woman determined to splinter his entire life. He is fucked. Fucked. Fucked.

Hurricane Mia has downgraded to a tropical storm and gingerly leads me to the bed. Do not look at me with pleas of desperation, Christian. I'm not going to break your mother's heart. You made that decision when Elena's cane across your back helped you become the man you are now. I've been incoherent for the better part of three days and I even see that your thinking is brainwashing from years of child abuse. If I had the nerve to hold your stare, I might be convinced that I see an apology in your eyes. Can a sociopath apologize? An apology that you made a fool out of me with your old family friend? When Christian takes me from Mia's arms helping me in the bed, I wonder if he feels anything at all. Is this man capable of feelings on some level? Why do these thoughts invade my mind? Why is it that when someone you love breaks your heart that your love can't automatically cut off? Why do I know how twisted and dark Christian is and I still look at him and want to reach out and caress his face? Because I'm fucked up. "Here, sweet girl. Take these pain pills and I'll give you a sleeping pill later." A sick fuck like Christian never deserved a mother this kind. Maybe this medicine will ease the edge of this feeling that I have. The feeling of wanting to open this third floor window and hurl myself out of it.

I've been fed, my pillows have been fluffed and now the lights are off and the television is on. Christian is under the covers beside me and we both mindlessly stare at the eleven o'clock news. I hear his mind working up to what he should say to me. I wouldn't dare bring it up and I've been wondering if he'd ever have the nerve. Surprisingly, he does and I don't let him off the hook. I stare at his profile until he looks at me. You're sorry? Well, of course you are. Christian, you never wanted anyone to know this secret. No, Christian. I don't believe that you're sorry for lying to me all these years, so pull every hair from your head and see if I give two fucks. "You don't understand, Ana. It's complicated, but she helped me. I was out of control." No, he's a goddamn idiot. A pedophile cannot help you. Fifteen and forty-one equals child abuse. Fifteen years of near daily contact is disgusting and he's in need of intense therapy. Two pain pills and I'm still hurting. One sleeping pill and I'm still awake. The bedside clock reads one o'clock in the morning and I close my eyes. I close my eyes. I close my eyes. Dark.

Staples removed and stitches dissolved. Dr. Trevelyan makes bedside visits and I'm up and about. Downstairs and outside. Katherine is here nearly every day, but we cannot talk because we are never alone. I always see Luke through a window as he walks the perimeter around the house. How fucking stupid. Do I quietly delight as I watch Christian walk throughout his childhood home as if he is a broken puppy? Yes. When I heard that Mrs. Lincoln was somewhere in California having yet another nose job, did my smile light up Times Square? Probably. She's to convalesce for a while before returning to Washington? What a joke. She is hiding her coward ass from Carrick and Grace. Christian finally returns to work and that's the only time I am forced to lay eyes on Taylor. He's been staying with his wife at the so called home of Mr. and Mrs. Christian Grey. Good. Watching Christian and Jason Taylor interact would be my motive in their murders. True, I cannot hurt Taylor, but a day is coming when I will spit straight in his face. A day is approaching. "I'll be leaving the office early from here on out, Anastasia." As if I fucking care.

Carrick, Grace, and Christian are at work. Mia is still asleep. Luke cannot come in the house and Kate arrives. I feel her baby kick. Emma Grace. I smile, she laughs. We are finally alone. Carrick hasn't questioned her or Luke about that night. Yet. Kate is carrying her large Louis Vuitton purse and pulls out a phone. Probably her new one. "Luke got us all these phones. We have to buy minutes to use them and he told me that we shouldn't talk about all of this shit on our regular phones. We'll have to hide this up in that room you're staying in, Ana." Christian has placed a temporary team together to run Grey Publishing until I am well enough to go back. Luke's friend got into Elena's and found what she has on Christian. The pedophile had saved so many disgusting images and damning evidence. Even more proof she has sexually abused and physically tortured many other young boys. They are all gone now. Luke's friend took them. She is fucked. Fucked. Fucked.

Pedophiles and child abuse invade my thoughts now. It was only my days and now into my nights. The sleeping pills don't chase the dark memories from my unconscious sleep. A copper haired and gray eyed little boy whose running to me and giggling. He sees me and smiles. He loves me. A copper haired and gray eyed man who has me by the wrists so I cannot move my arms. He isn't giggling. A raised cane. There is no love for me. A dark haired man with brown eyes. A hand across my cheek. I scream and cry. There is no love and I am ten years old. He's holding me down while he tears me apart. I scream, but now it is aloud, there is a light on, and my enemy is holding me and his parents run into the room. "What has happened?" I hear Grace ask, as the enemy rocks me back and forth. A nightmare. The first one in such a long time. It has been brought back to the surface of my life, although I would kill myself before confiding that to Christian. I am trash. Bitten. Flawed. So fucking scarred.

The nightmares continue. I know why. Kate knows and told Luke, so now they both know why. Now, they are fucking psychiatric experts. Therapy. Therapy. Therapy. Kate finds the best in three states. A specialist in her field. I finally relent and Kate makes the appointment. The entire family agrees, although they believe it is because of what happened the night of the party, but I catch Christian staring at me at dinner and I see in his eyes that he has derived a conclusion. My two and two and Christian's two and two do not equal eight. They equal fucked up, but in two completely different ways. Elliot's eyes on me across the table. "You alright?" Am I all right? Do I appear to be all right? I suppose that it depends on whom you ask.

Carrick never asked Kate. He had never asked Luke since he considered that Luke would never go against his boss. But he does ask me. Carrick's eyes are angry, but it is an angry form of pain. I see that similar look in my own eyes whenever I stare at myself in a mirror. Carrick knew it all. Was it a blessing or a curse that Kate's iPhone didn't pick up every word those two sick fucks said to one another? So, Carrick knows about Christian and Elena. A pedophile beating and fucking his son. As I watch his mouth move, I realize the phone never caught the part where Christian admitted our marriage was a sham. Would it hurt or help me if Carrick had heard those words? We'll never know. "Did you already know, Ana?" A question that is strained, full of hurt, shame, and pain. I shake my head. Suspected anything? Oh, yes. Oh, yes. I go with the truth. It is a spotlight on your family, Carrick, but it is the truth. From day one. Kate did too, and from the first moment we laid eyes on her. Where? In your living room. Why? Obvious inappropriate behavior between them. Late night dinners while waiting for Christian to come home. Alone. Silence. Silence. Silence. I have pointed out Carrick's blind spot or was it a chosen blind eye? It's tragic, but I can't worry about people who live their lives with their head stuck in the sand. Mine is no longer buried in the sand. It's about truth, Carrick. Not yours. Not mine. It's Christian's truth. I do not say all of this to Carrick or what else I know. He stands up and pours himself a tumbler of scotch.

Finally recovered and able to go back to the home I share with Christian. "Another reason for therapy!" Kate snapped. Still not up for a full day at Grey Publishing, I go for half days and while I drown out the dark voices in my head with work, Luke sits in his corner of my office and works on what I've told him I need. Nails. Those many nails for that one coffin. Katherine burns so many minutes on our pre-paid phones that Luke constantly buys more. Christian calls me several times a day and we know what he is doing with his time a couple of days a week. No turning those videos and camera feeds off until the day of. The day of what Kate and Luke ask me, but I stare at them obstinately. Time stamped remember? I sit in on so many meetings as I catch up on what my company has been dealing with. How am I? Yes, I am much better, now fuck off. I text Kate to contact realtor ASAP. I want a home on East Lake Sammamish, Lake Front only. Therapy. Dr. Caroline Swann. Dr. Caroline Swann. She had better be the best in the entire Northwest considering her hourly rate.

Dr. Caroline Swann is an older woman with kind green eyes and graying hair that is up in a bun. A forensic psychiatrist who specializes in abuse and trauma. Purportedly, the best in the Northwest, at least she is according to Katherine Grey. A big and welcoming office. Yellows and pale blue and a two hour session. She has not gone high tech and has stuck to paper and a pen. She is quietly reading my responses to her standard questionnaire. Dr. Swann finishes going over it and pins me with her soft eyes. "A fist is fast, isn't it, Ana?" What? Dr. Swann explains her question and probably does so due to my manifestation of confusion. The fist is all of my trauma and how quickly they moved in my life. This hits me hard. Like I did not want Christian to hit me. I tell her about my life and she listens. She does not just hear what I am saying; she is actually listening to me. This perfect stranger is listening to the details about my life and is interested. She asks the hard questions. You were molested when you were ten. Who knew that it happened? Whom did you tell? My stepfather and mother knew. How did my mother respond? I jeer at that inquiry. Help? I had enough and I never told another soul until I met my current best friend. Yes, I actually told my husband, but I'm not sure how it made him feel. Yes, I knew about the BDSM and Christian told me that he had given it up for me. Yes, yes, I believed him. I wanted to believe him because my heart obscured the truth. Through my tears, I admit to her that I love Christian. I do love him. Fuck you. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Oh, but I was stupid, although I am not stupid anymore.

"Explain that to me, Ana." Give me a verb, an adjective, a noun, or an adverb to throw at this woman. Do I tell her what I'm hell bent on doing? The amount of money I've spent putting this all into motion. Will I be judged? Do I care anymore? No, I don't and I unload it all in her office. I vomit thoughts, plans, dreams, hopes, failures, disappointments, sorrow, and pain all over her office. She listens and I weep. She listens and I yell out loud. She listens and I curse. I curse my mother, myself, Christian, Elena, disgusting sexual lifestyles, child molesters, liars, fools and idiots. I curse for allowing myself to be a victim, for having no self-respect, no self-preservation. She listens. Can you ever feel worthy after being induced to feel worthless? She challenges the direction I view myself. How I have permitted others to guide my spirit and my determinations. Where does my decision making come from? What drew me to Christian and then kept me there after that first night? That bat shit crazy first night with him that was nothing but fear, fury, and sexual deviance. Christian showed me who he really was and yet I closed my eyes anyhow. That first night was nearly all that I loathe and yet I fucking stayed. It has just been one hour.

"I understand your heart is broken. I realize that on some level you feel entitled to retaliate. Nevertheless, I do not realize the extreme decisions you have taken in. Why not leave this session and then go leave your husband?" Her lips flap as her words drone on. She cannot be serious. Why? Why? Who avenged me when I was a child? I was pieced back together, but no one had to pay and now the bastard is dead and I cannot do a goddamn thing to him. Do I make my so-called mother pay for his sins? No, she has been shunned for her own. I admit every mistake I ever made with Christian Grey. Nevertheless, my fucked up thinking and mistakes did not give him a free pass to turn my life into a joke. There is not enough retribution for that, Dr. Swann. Yeah, and then I was drawn to Christian sexually because he was rough with me and the lighter side of BDSM turned me on. No, it never occurred to me that my abuse as a child contributed to that factor and that idea does not make sense at all. If that were true, then why did I refuse to let him hurt me? For God's sake, I let the man tie me up! Why did I just not give him carte blanche so he would still be mine? Dr. Swann stares at me in silence and I am not sure that I am still breathing. ? I wanted Christian Grey to love me as I loved him. I wanted Christian to love me. Christian did not love me, did he? I witness the dust of my heart float out the window into the Seattle rain and drown in a puddle of self-realization. It is not all about him. It's about what is and what is never going to be. What it never was. This is about me and how I allowed Christian to treat me. I allowed his behavior to slide and never called him on it. I did not love or respect myself and I allowed Christian to show me he did not love or respect me. I have to fix this myself. Those two hours are now sadly over. Kate and Luke were right about therapy and I make an appointment for next week. We shake hands and her clutch is gentle and strong. I really respect that.

Luke helps me in the back seat and I unexpectedly begin to weep once the door is shut. He says nothing and doesn't start the vehicle. For fifteen minutes I cry. I weep for myself. For Christian. I weep for what I've drug Luke and Kate into. I cry for starving kids around the globe. I cry because I want my father, and because I was weak. Then Taylor further ruins my mood when he calls Luke to check in on us. Because I'm a four year old child on a leash. A fucking leash. My tears are gone now and all I want to do is to drive through the rain and meet the realtor at the home Kate said I should look at. Kate and I text, text, text. I am fine, it went okay, and I am going back. Nevertheless, my best friend is able to gauge my mood through my text messages. Let it go, Kate. Let it go and because Kate understands and loves me, she lets it go. "Ana, are we headed up to that house? We've got to bust our ass if we are."

Mrs. Geraldine O'Hara has dyed red hair and wears too much make-up. Luke made sure she signed the NDA and if she recognized me, she never let on that she did. Kate was correct about Mrs. O'Hara's discretion. Several lake front acres on the eastern side of Lake Sammamish. Five large bedrooms. Seven bathrooms. Huge this, huge that. Three fireplaces and this kind of room and that kind of room. "This is a security nightmare." Luke mumbles, though I don't listen. Mrs. Red hair and too much make-up just made herself a huge commission and I'm not sure if her huge grin is from the sale or her steady gaze on Luke's ass. Do you think I care? No, no I do not.

Katherine was absolutely thrilled. Yeah, of course she is. It's not her life that imploded. It won't be the dissolution of her marriage spread over every newspaper from here to there. I'm not resentful. I'm not resentful. Yes, I am resentful. I rub my forehead until the skin nearly falls off. I am insecure. I am jealous. I am resentful. The problem with resentment runs way deeper than I knew. It is a strangling force around my throat. It is nearing the point where it is cruelty behind every word I wish to speak. I feel my resentment as an always-present shadow in a room that I occupy. It is choking accusations that I want to hurl at people and hurt them with. These bitter, bitter words. The bitterest word. My mind drifts back to my session with Dr. Swann. Drifting to that place, I had closed off. Now my mind wanders to that familiar place. One I do not talk about or acknowledge. A place where there is only me. A place that I hate.

My attitude changes when Luke hands me two folders containing information about the present life of one Hillary Wilkins, i.e., Declan. My smile grows larger the more I read. Could this be perfect? She has two staunch and strict Catholic parents. She is married to a graduate of Notre fucking Dame, Jonathon Declan and he teaches theology at the very same Catholic school as his wife. They met when she got her job at the school they teach at. She has two daughters and her in-laws are also Catholic and graduated from their son's alma mater, Notre Dame. Her father-in-law is a prestigious attorney and her mother-in-law is a socialite and a Sunday school teacher. Luke has the addresses for the Declan's home, the priest of the Catholic Church they attend and the prestigious private Catholic school where they work. He also possesses' the address' of her in-laws residence and her father-in-laws prestigious and well-known law firm. My mouth drops when I get to the last pages of her file. In January of 2013, when she was living here in Seattle and was Christian's sub, she was treated at Swedish Medical Center for a broken arm. Miss Wilkins, i.e., Declan required surgery for her injury and went home with a private nurse to care for her. Hmm. Her contract with my husband ended in January and she left Seattle the next month and abandoned the condominium Christian bought her and never returned. The entire hospital bill and private nurse were paid anonymously. Tears fill my eyes. Christian broke her arm.

I will listen to Dr. Caroline Swann. Don't torture yourself. Don't hurt yourself. Don't end up the victim or try to make sense of the nonsensical. I'm sticking with what I know about myself and those I can trust. Trust, Ana, trust. There is such a thing in the world. There is, there is, there is. But I cannot help myself and read the second folder. My God, I am sabotaging my own sanity and I don't even care. I read about our very near and dear Miss Haley Sams, my husband's latest paid whore. Holy, fuck. Is luck on my side or what? What is it with these little religious whore's rebelling against daddy and his religion? Both her father and brother are Episcopal priests here in Seattle. Her father is the priest at Seattle's Trinity Parish Episcopal Church, which is on the National Register of Historic Places. Wow. Big time. Miss Sams also attended the Episcopalian Annie Wright Schools in Tacoma, which her father serves on the Board of Trustees. My head is pounding and my chest hurts. I want to crawl in a hole and die. I want to leave Seattle and never return. I am an idiot, a fool, a stupid, stupid, woman. However, Luke has done his homework and like the whore across the country, he has procured every address we need to drop a few things in the mail and watch some upheaval. It is not close to the upheaval in my life, but it all has its just deserts. In addition, for Miss Sams, there is the little matter of her employment and how I will be handling that. None of this serves as a prize for me though. No matter whom I shame and hurt, no matter whose little neat and cozy life I interrupt, mine will still be the same.

I can continue to force myself to believe that I am already fine and settled within myself. However, if I am honest and say that I am all right, I would be a liar. I can say I am a bit better. Bit by bit, then bits to pieces, pieces to pieces and then I know I will be whole. Super glue not included. "Lunch, Ana?" Luke's right. I am hungry. Lunch at my favorite small bistro a block from Grey Publishing. The rain has stopped, although the sky is gray and the clouds low. Luke is by my side as we head across the street and wait at a crosswalk. "Ana! Ana! Anastasia!" I immediately step behind Luke, who already has an arm in front of me. However, it's all right. Oh, my God! It's alright, Luke. It's just Riley Stough! I hug my college boyfriend as Luke scrutinizes him. This guy has grown up. The almost too long hair is gone and he's even more handsome than I remember. I smile at him with an honest to God genuine smile that has not been on my lips for a long while. Lunch. Lunch with Riley. Lunch with Riley at my favorite small bistro. With Luke's arm on my back and looking beyond pissed. However, I am not Christian's possession. I am a twenty-four year old woman and I have just run into a man that was once in love with me.

Riley. The hot and cool older guy who was somehow interested in a shy bookworm named Anastasia Steele. Riley, now an aerospace engineer who has just earned his doctorate and works for the federal government in a position that I do not dare ask about. He is wearing an expensive suit, although nowhere near as expensive as those Christian wears. That does not matter though Riley still looks edible. We reminisce. Laugh and smile at one another. We flirt. He asks me about Katherine and I inquire if he had stayed in touch with any of our mutual college friends. Wearing a come-hither grin, he tells me he is in the middle of ending a three-year relationship. I remember that grin. I always loved that grin. I nearly blurt out that my marriage is over, but I glance at Luke and realize what a colossal fuck up that would be. Luke is scanning the area and I know he is getting even angrier. He is texting someone and then my pre-paid phone buzzes. Luke has sent me a text, "Get your ass up, and out of here before a pap or a kid with a camera phone takes your picture." I know he is right.

We get ready to leave and Riley asks if I would like to get together sometime soon. Luke clears his throat. Yes, Riley I would. "Let's swap numbers then." God, did Riley's voice always sound this sexy? He gives me his number and when I start to give him mine, Luke clears his throat again. Oh, okay. I understand, you fuck head. I remember to give Riley the number of the pre-paid phone. We smile, hug, and tell one another goodbye. Riley walks off in one direction and Luke directs me toward the SUV.

Luke is not happy. I realize I placed myself in a precarious situation and was downright playing with fire. However, fuck it. I do not give a fuck. I ran into someone who I trusted and knew that he once actually loved me. He made me feel beautiful and confident and appreciated my intelligence. He used to make me smile and he did again today. Riley Stough made me smile at lunch in my favorite small bistro.

A note from me—I realize everyone gets impatient for an update. However, I've gone from being ill at home for several days and today is my first day home from the hospital. So, I haven't meant to leave anyone hanging. In addition, I am really beginning to believe that as planned, this little story will be wrapped up soon.


	21. Chapter 21

All rights to the characters and the story of FSoG belong to E. L. James

(Forgive all mistakes that I am positive I missed when I re read this. My OCD tendency when it comes to proof reading and editing the chapters has disappeared.)

_Happy Birthday, Mr. Grey_

_**Wednesday, June 17**__**th**__**, 2015 **_

_Seattle, Washington_

_Ana's POV_

June 17th, 2015= One of the best days of my entire life and one of the most fucked up days of my life.

I have turned my office chair toward the floor to ceiling window and am watching a heavy downpour pelt rain on the glass. These near constant periods of heavy rain are unusual in mid June and are more of a mainstay for autumn in Seattle. By midsummer, Seattleites are used to a dreary piss like rain that eventually leads to a comfortable July and August. Any other time, this messy weather would dampen my mood, although this morning, an F-5 tornado could rip Grey Publishing apart and I would sing like a canary upon the rubble.

Holding my iPad with both hands, I replay this morning's KOMO news broadcast for the fourth time. I am filled with sardonic amusement each time I hear the words coming from the reporter's mouth. A feeling of such joy it is comparable to a near orgasmic high. This fortunate turn of events and the consequences it has brought about are not of my making. They belong to one woman who unknowingly ran her mouth in front of three witnesses. Three highly intelligent witnesses that possess a patient know how and a connection who gets things done. All I can think about is the poor, poor situation that this woman has created for herself. I replay the report with a smirk of gratifying satisfaction upon my lips.

"_Good morning Seattle and welcome to KOMO news. We begin our broadcast with a breaking and most disturbing story. Moments ago, the Seattle Police Department confirmed that Elena Lincoln, owner of Seattle's chain of Esclava beauty salons, was arrested late last night on multiple counts of sexual abuse of a child, possession of child pornography, as well as running a prostitution ring. The Seattle Police said that late last week an alleged victim of Lincoln came forward to press charges on her, which led to the SPD executing a search warrant on Lincoln's residence along with all three of her salons. Lincoln, also a well-known Seattle socialite, was arrested due to evidence found at each location. KOMO news received an anonymous tip that the clientele of Lincoln's escort service were strictly the most exclusive and wealthiest men in the Seattle area. The police would not comment on this and would not answer if a list of Lincoln's clientele would be released. Lincoln is currently being held on a four million dollar bond and her arraignment is set for tomorrow. Stay tuned to KOMO news for further developments of this story."_

Revenge. A dish best served cold.

Never noticing my office door open, I only swivel my chair around when I hear Luke unceremoniously toss a bag of red Twizzlers on my desk. His head is soaked from the rain and he's yet to bother removing his raincoat as he casually flops down on the chair in front of my desk. Luke's expression gives nothing away, but with a raised eyebrow, he is telegraphically showing his disapproval that I am watching the broadcast another time. I cannot help but wonder if the idiot expected any less of me.

"Thank you," I mumble in a bitchy and grouchy way.

I am pissed off because he has not told me everything he knows and I am aware this fact amuses him. Since this standoff between Luke and I has been going on all morning, my intense aggravation at the thought he is torturing me, caused me to be a bitch and send him out in the rain for my favorite candy. I could not help but think he has done much worse than walk to the corner CVS.

_Asshole._

Leaning back in my chair, I stare at Luke willing him to spill it, when there is a soft knock at my door. Luke stands to head over to the part of my office I designated as his area, but I motion him to stay seated. I know he did not want to appear so laid back in case it was Christian or any other member of his goon squad, but I could tell from the timid knock that it belonged to my PA, Hannah.

"Yes," I call out, still giving Luke the evil eye. The fucker.

Hannah sneaks her head around the door and tentatively smiles at me. I have not been myself since my return and my employees have had a taste of my new bipolar personality. I suppose she is preparing herself for the short tempered and bitchy Ana. I try to remind myself to reign in the bitch once I get to work, although I am having trouble to remember to do so.

"Yes, Hannah?" I smile at her. Not a fuck you fake smile, but a genuine smile.

Hannah nods at Luke and approaches me with trepidation in her eyes. Continuing to smile at her as an offer of encouragement, I suddenly feel like shit that I have possibly caused a rift in our relationship.

"Mrs. Grey, I am not privy to the reason, but security at the front entrance called to inform me that there are several members of the media outside and requested that I tell you." Hannah has always had such a kind voice.

I look directly at Luke, who raises an eyebrow at me and nods as if to say he already knows. Of course, he already fucking knows. Great job, Luke. Another thing you are keeping from me today. I bite my lower lip hard so I do not say anything inappropriate to either of them, knowing that if I bite Hannah's head off, it will be Luke's fault.

"Hannah, do you know if security found out why they're here?" I ask and begin to rub my temples.

"No, Mrs. Grey. Remember you instructed security to ignore any media or paparazzi around the building unless they became a nuisance to anyone entering or exiting the building," Hannah replies.

I smile wryly at myself at forgetting the security protocol we have in place. Seems if the world does not revolve around Ana these days, she does not seem to give a fuck.

_Because Ana is busy dismantling someone's life._

"Well, I am glad they remembered the policy even if their boss didn't. Thank you, Hannah. That will be all."

I effectively dismiss her and Luke scolds me with a shake of his head. Tapping a pen on my desk as my irritation grows, I watch Luke grab and tear open the bag of Twizzlers. He offers me one before shoving one in his mouth. I have no idea why he is behaving like a petulant child and all I want to do is box his ears, as I am sure his mother did quite frequently.

"You're really going to force me to ask aren't you, Luke?" I ask him incredulously.

Luke's face breaks out into a panty-dropping grin and he crosses one of his legs over the other. "I was thinking about it," he responds, clearly amused at the bitch he has turned me into, but today, something is off about Luke.

"You knew the media was down there? Why in the hell didn't you tell me?" I snap and though he is still smiling, I see something other than amusement in his eyes.

"Ana, I was about to tell you when Hannah knocked on the door. Taylor called me while I was playing your personal Willy Wonka in the middle of a torrential downpour. Thanks for that, by the way," he replies sarcastically.

"What did Jason tell you?" I am getting so pissed at his evasiveness my cheeks are red.

"T was giving me the heads up. Your husband would have probably called you himself, but from what I heard, he was in the middle of one of his infamous office destroying fits."

Beginning to suspect a media circus being related to Elena Lincoln's arrest, now I really want Luke to quit fucking around. Standing up, I place my hands on my desk and lean forward. I suppose Luke interrupts my stance as a way to intimidate him as he laughs at me.

"Luke, this is bullshit. The media is outside, Taylor gives you the heads up that Christian is off the rails, and I take that as meaning the poor thing is upset that his child molester has been busted. Therefore, start filling me in on what is going on or I am going to murder you. I am tired, getting a headache and now I am purposely going to gross you out by telling you that my fucking pussy is hurting me this morning. Pleas…"

Luke jumps from his seat and covers his ears. A look of utter disgust on his face and I bend over laughing. Kate and I love to tease him and the best way to do so is to remind him we have vaginas.

"Fuck, Ana! That is too much fucking information! Jesus fucking Christ! Fuck!" Luke starts to pace my large office and now it is my turn to laugh at him.

"Oh, fuck you. Now sit back down and start talking. You have been on your phone all day and that means you know what is up. Please stop torturing me and put me out of my misery? Okay?"

My plea is actually heartfelt, although I do lay it on thicker than usual. I do sound the way I feel-dejected.

"Fine, I will quit fucking with you, but Ana, do not ever say shit like that to me again,' he replies, shaking his head.

I sit back down and cross my arms. I am still exhausted despite the fact that I am still only working half days. The last few days have been nothing but one meeting after the next as I try and reacquaint myself with my company and catch up with what all has gone on in my absence. I have to give Christian some credit, the temporary team he put together to run it during my absence proved themselves well. At least I do not have a million fires to put out or tons of fuck up's to fix. Luke had better start talking before I set him on fire.

"Ok, I'll start with your husband first. Grey has lost it. He knew that Lincoln cunt had something on him and now he has lost his mind thinking it is in the evidence room at the SPD."

"As we knew he would. He doesn't know when we copied everything that we kept his pictures out," I reply, my voice laden with disgust.

_Because I am weak and let him off the hook again._

"The PD is trying to get the last names of all those other boys, but so far Cruella's lips are sealed. I still don't understand why she put the first and last name of Timothy Pence on that one photo and just the first names of the other kids. Maybe he was her favorite."

Luke says this nonchalantly and merely shrugs his shoulders as he takes another bite of his Twizzler.

The thought of a fourteen-year-old boy being a favorite target for a child abuser that introduces them to BDSM is abhorrent to me. It was pure luck that Elena's dumbass did write Timothy Pence's full name on those horrible pictures she had taken of him. Luckily, for us, the young man, now in his early twenties, is in therapy and dealing with what Elena did to him. He was more than willing to help put her away. All I could do was thank God that his parents already knew what the bitch had done to their child.

"Luke, to say that child must have been her favorite is downright disgusting. That sick bitch should be shot in the street," I snarl.

Luke finally takes off his raincoat, hangs it on the coat rack, and shakes his head, causing rainwater to hit me on the face. I am positive that he did it on purpose.

"Whatever. Jensen, the lawyer you hired for the Pence family let me know that this sick bitch found an idiot lawyer to take her case. Jensen doesn't know who the attorney is though."

Luke sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose before he continues.

"Taylor already has Reynolds here and Ryan will be here when we leave," he reluctantly tells me.

I have no idea why that fuckwad would do that and I look at Luke as if he is crazy. This has Christian's name written all over it and that means there is an underlying reason that no one will tell me. Fuck. How damn typical of Grey and the goon squad. Let us keep Ana in the dark and she will look like the idiot Grey has made her out to be.

"What in the fuck for, Luke? That crazy security shit has not been so extreme since Christian announced our engagement. Start explaining. Now."

Luke has the audacity to laugh at me again and I throw my pen at him, barely missing his face.

"Welch has found out that a credible reporter at the Times got a tip on this story when they first executed the search warrant. Before you ask, I was NOT the tip and neither was Kate. Anyway, this reporter knew that Grey was Lincoln's business partner and started digging around once the words prostitution ring got out."

The look on Luke's face tells me he's about to tell me some heavy shit and my stomach clenches. I unconsciously slump down in my chair. This awesome day just went to shit and all I can do is nod at Luke for him to continue.

"And?" I respond impatiently and then I hear him sigh.

"This Seattle Times reporter uncovered that although Lincoln's salons are in her name, she actually doesn't own them, Grey does. He financed their start up and the salons are financially backed by GEH. He has propped her up from money that comes straight out of several off shore GEH bank accounts along with one personal bank account of Grey's. GEH has never made a profit from the salons. Grey has let Lincoln keep all profit and he doesn't get one cent from his 'investment'," he says in an almost apologetic tone of voice.

_Does Washington have the death penalty?_

In total shock, and laying my head in my hands, I try to wrap this unbelievable bit of information around my brain, but I just cannot fucking do it. All these years and all those lies. What a cocksucker. Just how brainwashed is Christian? My silence spurs Luke to continue although now his voice is gentle.

"That situation puts GEH, along with Grey, in a really bad light due to Lincoln's arrest and the specific charges behind it. The reporter who had their curiosity piqued and uncovered this shit has written an in depth story about why GEH and Grey would conduct business with Lincoln in such a…unconventional way. The story is going to be on the front page. So, other media outlets caught wind of the story and are asking questions as to why Grey is in a strange business arrangement with a woman who is currently in jail charged as a pedophile and a woman that peddles out prostitutes."

I scoff loudly and roll my eyes. I cannot decide if I want to laugh or cry.

"I wonder if anyone will uncover these so called prostitutes are actually submissives?" I ask him, he shrugs, and we stare at one another in silence.

"It's a possibility if one of the sluts starts talking," he replies quietly.

"I fucking hope that little factoid is revealed."

Considering that it feels like ten tons of concrete that I can no longer hold up, I lay my head on my desk. It seems that one secret uncovers another and all of these sick fucks deserve some rough justice. Rough justice that is guaranteed courtesy of a five foot three inch bookworm.

"Are you good, Ana?"

"Is what that bastard has been doing illegal? I ask him, still face down on my desk.

"No," Luke replies.

After several moments, I lift my head and look out the window. It is still pouring rain. Taking out two Twizzlers, I hand one to Luke and stick one in my mouth, although now I have a bitter taste on my tongue. The question on my mind has resurfaced, though it does not feel like regret. The feeling is numbness. The numbness only brought about by the frost from a November leaf, or the freezing lies Christian fed me, and the heart, covered in ice and unable to heal.

"I know that I asked you not to tell me what you would do with that picture, but now I want to know," I whisper.

Staring at the bookshelf behind my desk, Luke does not immediately answer. I realize that I will have no room to be angry with him no matter what he chose to do. I am the one who handed Luke the decision for him to make.

"A certain practically unrecognizable picture of a fifteen-year-old Grey?"

_God, yes. Do not make me recall the other disgusting pictures of Christian that we kept._

I look back at him with a half-hearted smile. "Yeah, the one I am going to send out as this year's Christmas card," I reply dryly.

"It was placed with all of the rest of the cunt's photos and is currently evidence in the case against Lincoln," he responds and stares impassively, although I once again grab hold of an unnamed emotion in his eyes.

My expression is blank and surprisingly enough, the decision he made does not bother me. You would have to be very familiar of a young Christian and then you would still struggle to recognize him. In addition, it is blurry and it is a sideways shot of his face. I suddenly think of something and my eyes dart around my office. I bite my lower lip and run a hand through my hair.

"Will Carrick know?" I can even hear the panic in my voice.

Luke looks at me quizzically and leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his legs.

"Know what? he asks.

I stare at him as though he is an idiot, close my eyes, and sigh deeply.

"That the fucking picture is of Christian?" I sarcastically reply.

"Ana, we're all aware that Carrick Grey is a well known and respected attorney in Seattle, but unless he's Lincoln's attorney, he's never going to see those pictures. There's always a chance he may have the muscle to twist some arms so that he can see them, but technically, there aren't any of Grey, so don't stress over it."

"True…that is true. We also know that Carrick already knows about the sick shit Elena did to Christian. I also know him well enough that I am positive he is shitting his pants worrying that his son is about to be publically humiliated or caught up in some sordid sex story. Can you even imagine what Carrick would do if he found out that Christian is now the one wielding a cane? Shit."

Luke does not comment. I rub my eyes and reach for my purse and briefcase. Suddenly, a thought enters my mind and panic floods throughout my body.

"Grace! Oh, no! Carrick only forced Christian and Elena to tell her they had fucked for six years. Grace is not a goddamn idiot, Luke! She is going to realize that since Christian was fifteen when Elena started to molest him, that Elena may have some sort of proof of that sick relationship! Do not forget that now Grace will find out about the BDSM shit! Fuck!" I am trying to keep my voice down and bury my head in my hands again.

"Luke, do you know the saddest part about all of this? All of this heartache is what Christian spent his entire life trying to protect Grace. He has always tried to hide what he calls his 'real self' from his family. So, now the tragedy is that Christian has thrown it all up in his parent's faces. Oh, fuck, whom am I kidding? WE have thrown it all up in her face!"

_Will the end justify the means, Ana?_

"Fuck, Ana, I know! Every part of this is sick, it is wrong, and it is all Grey's fault. Remember that! This is never going to go public. Grey's sick lifestyle has hurt his family, along with you! All you can do is be there for his parents. We know Elliot and Mia will never find any of this shit out," he shouts at me emphatically.

Picking up a framed picture of all of us near the water behind Carrick and Grace's home, I trace each family member with an index finger. It was taken last year on the fourth of July. I am standing in front of Christian with his arms around me. He actually looks happy. As if…I made him happy. He actually looks like a man in love. As if I was the woman that he was in love with. I feel tears sting the back of my eyes.

"Look at me, Ana and put that picture down. That picture is an example of things never appearing as they look. Lose the guilt; it is all on Grey's shoulders, not yours. He has hurt his parents and you! Fuck him!"

I have never heard nor seen Luke this angry...or seen…what? Something else?

Placing the picture back, I am about to respond when my pre-paid phone rings. I figure it is Kate calling, but I look at the caller ID and it is Riley. As I reach for the phone, Luke quickly grabs it. He does not attempt to hide his anger as he rejects the call. I glare at him, incensed. The fury Luke's emitting tells me he does not give a shit how I feel and it confuses me.

_Seriously confuses me._

"Ana, I told you to tell the rocket scientist to stop calling you. Tell. Him. To. Stop. Calling. You," he practically snarls at me through gritted teeth.

I shake my head as though I am trying to remove the confused look upon my face. What was that about? Averting my eyes, I feel tears welling up in my eyes and once again, I look out my window. Luke comes around my desk and squats in front of me. Without uttering a word, Luke wipes away the single tear running down my face and takes my hands into his.

_Luke has held onto my hands a trillion times before, yet they have never made me feel this way._

We are now eye level, cerulean blue to a brownish tinged hazel, starting at one another. Out of nowhere, something electric is crackling through the air and my heart is stomping inside my chest. Neither of us moves nor tears away from the other's stare. My breathing stops when Luke's eyes move to my lips and linger there.

_I do not understand why, but I want him to kiss me. Kiss me and my blood will stop throbbing within me. Kiss me._

I have no idea if seconds, minutes, or hours pass by as we remain this way. When I feel a familiar ache between my legs, my breath hitches, and Luke's body infinitesimally leans closer to mine. Watching his mouth, I run the tip of my tongue along my lower lip and subtly lean in to meet his lips. Luke softly places his right hand in my hair and begins to pull me toward him and as I close my eyes, his cell phone rings, causing me to jump. Luke shuts his eyes with a face full of frustration as he stands to answer the call. He walks to the other side of the room and keeps his back to me. I can tell from his side of the conversation that he is talking to Taylor.

_What in the hell was that? I would have fucked him, right here, right now._

While Luke is speaking with Taylor, I do my best to calm down and get a hold of myself. This is embarrassing and I have no idea what I am supposed to say or do.

Luke ends his call. "That was Taylor. Ryan has just pulled up outside. Reynolds will ride shotgun with him and they will follow us home. Do you have everything you need?"

Luke's tone is quite harsh and he is looking everywhere but at me while he puts his raincoat back on.

"Umm…Let me get my purse and briefcase. Please, just lock the door behind us and I will tell Hannah I am leaving," I reply quickly and Luke does not answer.

Exiting Grey Publishing was a nightmare. There were at least one hundred members of the media along with the useless paparazzi. Luke and Reynolds were at both of my sides while Ryan walked in front of me. All three men were pushing people out of the way and Ryan sent one reporter to the ground. I keep my head lowered so the camera flashes do not blind me. From every direction, I hear loud and horrible questions being hurled at me. "Mrs. Grey! Why is your husband in business with a pedophile?" "Mrs. Grey! Is your husband and Mrs. Lincoln running a prostitution ring?" "Is your husband the owner of the prostitution ring?" "Mrs. Grey, why has your husband supported a pedophile for years?" "Mrs. Grey, your mother-in-law is Elena Lincoln's best friend; does she know her friend is a pedophile? "Mrs. Grey! Did Mrs. Lincoln furnish your husband prostitutes?" "Why does your husband's company own a prostitution ring?"

The questions leave me with an urge to vomit, although I would have loved to answer the one if Elena provided Christian with 'prostitutes'. God, how I would have loved to answer that question.

Once we make it to the SUV, Reynolds and Sawyer practically throw me in the back. Sawyer and Reynolds climb in and we took off. I looked out the window, silently asking myself the same questions that those reporters had asked me. I am aware that I will never know the answers.

The journey home was as awkward and uncomfortable as riding in the elevator at Grey Publishing with Luke. I was actually relieved that Reynolds was in the SUV with us. Luke and Reynolds were being inundated with phone calls the entire way home. From the sound of it, my home, well, my almost former home had been turned into some sort of command station. Knowing that both irritated and pissed me off. Although, I was not surprised. However, while I wished that was all I could think about, it was not. All I could think about was what had nearly happened in my office with Luke and what would have happened if his phone had not started to ring. I pull out my phone pretending to busy myself with it, although I just blankly stare at it and think.

Fuck.

_What was that and why do I now feel that it was inevitable?_

We barely made our way through the gate once we got home. The media is everywhere, just as they were at Grey Publishing. Some have the nerve to bang on the sides of our vehicle and Reynolds rolls down his window, threatening to get out and kick some ass. I hear the damn questions until we were halfway up the drive. To my dismay, there are several cars in the drive way and I see Carrick's BMW. I blow out a long breath to ready myself for the clusterfuck inside the house.

Luke rushes me in and I wish that I could tip toe past the family room. With a weird pulling sensation in my stomach, I watch as Luke, along with Reynolds disappear down the hall. The room is full of men although I recognize a few. They all stop and stare while a red eyed Grace and pissed off Carrick give me a sympathetic smile. Looking in the far right corner, I see my husband pacing like a caged lion. Christian is pulling at his hair with both hands. I briefly watch him and the only word that comes to mind is, "Good." Taylor is in the corner wearing a black suit and looking every bit of the traitor that he is. He catches my gaze and nods at me.

Dreading the fuck out it, I walk in the room and go directly to my in-laws, hug them both fiercely, and whisper that I am sorry. Grace's face is tear stained with a message that screams, "I know."

Holding me very close to her, Grace whispers, "Did you know?"

"Yes." I reply, also whispering, but not as quietly as Grace did. I really do not give a fuck who hears me.

_I am so sorry, Grace._

Judas makes his way to me, gives me a perfunctory and chaste kiss on the lips, and introduces me to several men who would best be described as people who are going to try to save Christian's ass. I am on my best behavior, give them dazzling smiles, and engage each one in conversation. I speak to them while my mind is back in my office. Craving to feel Luke Sawyer's lips on my own.

Once my pretend greeting of the suits is finished and once again embracing my in-laws, I walk to the kitchen where Gail is making fresh coffee.

"Hello, Gail." I greet her in a low, but cheery voice. Praying I will not be sucked back into the vortex that is the family room.

"Hi, Mrs. Grey. Can I get you anything?" she asks and smiles at me brightly.

"No, thank you. I am just going to make myself a glass of wine and go change into some comfortable clothes. Do you know who all is in there? I had never met several of them before." I ask and gesture toward the family room with my chin.

Gail dries her hands on her apron. I notice that she has made a tray of snacks that I assume are for the mass of people who are crowded around Christian, awaiting his orders.

"Well, Mr. Grey and his parents are in there, along with Mr. Welch and Jason. I do believe the others work for Mr. Grey at GEH."

"Great…I am going to go up and change."

"Mrs. Grey, does six o'clock sound like a good time for dinner?"

"Oh, Gail, don't worry about it. I feel like ordering out. Just take the evening off. I am sure our group of visitors will be fine without you," I reply. Gail appears confused at first and then smiles as I turn away.

I retrieve my purse and briefcase from where I dropped it in the hallway and head toward the staircase. I plan locking myself in the bedroom to hide from this shit storm. Looking at the glass of wine in my hand, I say fuck it and go get the entire bottle. Gail's back is to me as I sneak back to the kitchen and grab the entire bottle.

_If a day ever called for alcohol, today would be that day._

Once within the confines of my bedroom, I lock the door behind me. I go into the bathroom to run myself a bath, but I just sit on the edge of the tub, and after two glasses of wine, I grab my iPhone and call Kate.

"Hey, Ana Banana! How are you?" Kate sounds like a worried mother hen.

"Yeah…I am fine and dandy if you are referring to our happy fun time with Cruella," I say.

"What does that mean? What if I am not referring to Cruella? What happened?" Kate demands.

How does she always catch the slightest word that covertly alters a sentence?

"Oh, God, Kate! I do not even know how to say this because I haven't coherently processed it yet."

Kate does not speak for a moment and I can tell she is moving into another room. The voices of Elliot and Ava that I heard in the background begin to fade away.

"What do you mean? Processed what? What happened? Is Grey onto us? Jesus, fucking tell me and don't skip a single thing, Ana."

Katherine Grey is like a bloodhound on the hunt and every question was a raging hurricane.

"Jesus, Kate. Go take a Xanax. Well, I was giddy over Cruella being in a jail cell with Big Bertha and then I hear about the shit that is going to hit the front page of the Times in the morning, not that I care about Christian looking bad. By the way, have you heard about that?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ana! Of course, I have, I fucking WORK there! Now, cut to the chase and spill you guts over what you cannot coherently process!" Kate barks at me.

"Ugh! Get ready to shit your pants or go online and order me a dildo from Adam and Eve…"

Naturally, Kate cannot keep herself from interrupting. "Oh, my God! Did you fuck somebody? Who…"

I roll my eyes and pour myself another glass of wine.

"If you would shut up, I'd fucking tell you! Now, just listen! So, I am sitting in my chair and I am really upset. Well…Luke comes around my desk, kneels in the floor, and wipes tears from my face. We are practically in each other's faces, he takes my hands in his, and we stare at one another, never saying a word. Then Luke's eyes go to my mouth and he starts to lean in as though he is going to kiss me! Without thinking twice, I lean forward and our lips are millimeters apart when his goddamn cell rings!" I tell her in a mixture of a shriek and a whisper.

At first, I think our call was disconnected because Kate does not say anything, but then Katherine Grey screams louder than I have ever heard her.

_Thanks, Kate. I did not need that eardrum._

"WHAT? What the fuck? He was going to kiss you? Luke Sawyer? Are you sure it wasn't going to be a kiss on your cheek? What…"

"Goddamn, Kate! I have been kissed by a man and I pretty much know how it works! The man was going to kiss me! We were sitting there and staring at one another while the room felt like an electrical storm! Shit, I wanted him to kiss me! Kate…I got, well, I got horny!"

"As in you wanted to fuck him? You wanted him? I know he is hot as hell, but…Ana, have you been making your appointments with Dr. Swann?

Katherine has officially pissed me off.

"Yes, I fucking have Kate! Are you implying that I wanted to kiss or even get laid because I am off my rocker or something? Your insinuation fucking pisses me off," I whisper and finish my glass of wine in one gulp.

"Of course, I'm not. This is just crazy. Have you ever got that vibe off Luke before?

I am shaking my head no and pouring myself another glass of wine as I answer. "Never. As in, ever!"

"Holy Jesus! How did he act on the drive home? Did you two discuss it?"

"Are you fucking crazy? Reynolds was with us on the drive home anyway." I swallow the wine in another giant gulp.

"Are you drinking something, Ana? You keep gulping and sound like a frog or some shit."

"Hell, yes, I am! I am drinking wine, although I prefer it was something stronger. Wouldn't you be drinking if some crazy shit like this happened to you? I mean, shit. We have been around one another non- stop for three fucking years and he is one of my best friends! How in the fuck did this happen?"

"Hells bells. Shit. Shit. Shit. Is he acting all weird now?" Kate asks me, sounding anxious.

I scoff at her and roll my eyes. "Duh! He is probably as mortified as I am! Kate, listen to me. If his cell hadn't interrupted us and he would have kissed me, we would have ended up on my desk fucking," I exclaim vehemently.

Kate gasps and I hear her exhale deeply.

"It felt that intense?"

"YES! Like I said, it was as if electrical currents were going off inside of me."

"Ana, you're just horny. How long has it been since you have had some dick? Seriously, just think about that," she responds.

I contemplate her theory and decide that she is probably right. Although that does not explain Luke's actions. I never picked up that he had feelings for me that were beyond the boundary of friendship.

_But if he does, I sure as hell do not mind._

"Oh, and he freaked the fuck out on me when Riley called me. As in, he ordered me not to talk to him through gritted teeth."

"Really? Well, he has been warning you about that being a horrendous idea. Which, by the way, I agree with. So, what are you going to do? Are you going to bring it up?"

"Hell, no! Are you shitting me? I am going to pretend as if it never happened and act that way, too. This is just too bizarre, Kate. And to top it off, my family room is currently like the situation room at the White House."

"How do you mean? What is going on? I mean, I am positive it is about Christian, but what is happening? Who all is there?" Now, Kate has started whispering.

"Hmm…let's see. Our mother and father-in-law, Christian, who is fucking the fuck out, by the way. Mr. Welch, his security head from GEH, Taylor, and about a dozen men in expensive suits I do not recognize. Well, one man I know. He is one of Christian's lawyers. And fuck, Kate. Grace knows now."

"Shit…Oh, fuck. Are you positive?" she sounds as upset as I feel.

"She practically told me and then asked me if I knew," I reply.

"Did you tell her the truth or not?"

"The truth."

"It really is for the best. She now knows how evil her best friend is and that she molested her son. I know she is terrified that the cops found something sick about Christian, but between Christian and Carrick, she will soon find out that they do not. So, do not lay down in guilt over that. Plus, Grace loves her kids unconditionally and we both know this is not going to change a thing between her and Grey. If anything, she will feel as if she didn't protect him and love him even more," Kate tells me.

I lose myself thinking of what Kate has just said and do not say anything.

"Where the hell are you at anyway?" she asks.

"I am hiding in my bathroom, sitting on the floor and chugging an expensive bottle of wine! I am staying up here. Downstairs is full of twits figuring out damage control. Let those suits try to find a way to keep GEH from looking bad. Luke said Christian is actually going nuts over if he is featured in Elena's little collection. Everyone else thinks it is because of GEH being linked to Cruella."

Kate laughs aloud. "Poor bastard. Let him freak out. Fucker had better end up grateful we did not put his deviant shit back in Cruella's house. Did you nearly drop dead when you found out about Grey propping Cruella up with GEH's bank accounts? Even his own private bank accounts? Shit, I mean it isn't illegal. It is just like any other business deal, except of course, that he was making zero profit from it. Now, THAT looks bad and does leave questions up in the air. In addition, Grey and GEH are financially tied to a woman like Cruella. You know those so called prostitutes were most definitely subs, don't you?

"Did I just fall off a turnip truck, Kate? Of course, I know exactly what those women are. What is Elliot saying about Lincoln's arrest and the charges against her?"

"He laughed and said he had always thought that bitch was creepy, although he'd never imagine she was a sicko like that. He is worried about Grace and has tried to call her cell a few times. But since she's at your place, I assume that's why she isn't answering," she replies.

"I just feel terrible that now Grace not only knows about Elena and Christian so called relationship, but now she knows her son was practically tortured by her best friend for six fucking years." I say, although my voice is small and hurt.

"Just remember this is all on Grey, Ana. I feel like shit thinking about Grace's feelings. But look at it this way, at least now she knows the truth and Grey and Cruella can't make her look like a fool any longer."

I can only sigh and pour myself another glass of wine.

"True, true, true. You're exactly right."

"OK, it's time to change the subject. What do you think about the pictures of the house I emailed you? I think Jonathon nailed it after you described the style you wanted for the house. He is freaking out that you are going to hate it once you see it though."

"Oh, tell him that I adore it! I am so excited to actually get up there and see it in person," I reply, imagining a warm, late summer night sitting on my back deck and gazing at the stars over the lake.

"I am going back up there on Monday. I will take more pictures to email you. Is Luke still bent out of shape over securing the house or has he calmed down since you hired your own goon squad? Oh, yeah…Are any of them hot?" Kate asks me, giggling.

"Jesus. He is still worried about the lake access even with the team he chose. Luke did say that they have done a great job so far getting the house secured. And, yes, most of them are disgustingly hot." I try to sound blasé, but then we both shriek with laughter.

"You lucky bitch," Kate snorts lovingly.

"You know it, girlfriend."

"Do you want to hear about the attorney I found you? As usual, your perfect best friend exceeded your expectations."

"Definitely."

"Per your request, the firm is not local and is small, with only a handful of lawyers, who happen to be all women. The senior partner is supposed to be a shark and despite she has kept her firm small, they have an impressive reputation," Kate says.

"Kate, you failed to mention where the firm is located or which one it is," I reply, the wine is getting to my head and making me grumpy.

"You're right…It's baby brain. Okay, it is up in Vancouver and is the law firm of Darlington, Kendall, and Colter. Sarah from our WSUV days interned that legal firm at one summer. I have researched the shit out them and spoke to one of their law clerks as well. All you need now is an appointment."

"Hmm…That sounds good. I think making an appointment soon is a good idea, don't you?"

"Absolutely! Do you want me to make it?"

"Let me figure out when I can head up there first," I reply.

"Okay, listen I hate to, but I have to hang up and go feed your brother-in-law. He's already yelled at me to bring my ass back downstairs."

"I will talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you, too."

After hanging up, I finish off the bottle of wine. I am officially drunk. Making my way to where Gail keeps the towels and washrags, I grab one of each and start a bath feel lightheaded. I walk to my medicine cabinet to grab my make up remover and my eyes land on the near empty bottle of Percocet that I had been taking after my surgery. Already stupid drunk and in not thinking clearly, I snatch the bottle up and remember Grace saying alcohol and pain medication could cause a coma. I am not in search of a coma, at the very least, I just want to be completely wasted and forget this crazy day. My drunken mind tells me I can achieve that with two Percocet's. I swallow them and sink into the bathtub.

I jerk awake, shivering from the now ice cold bath water. How long have I been in here? Getting out of the tub is tremendously harder than usual, although I manage to do so without inflicting damage upon myself. Struggling to put on sweats and an oversized tee shirt is another feat I have to tackle. It must take twenty minutes just to pull up my sweatpants and who knows how long I struggled to unlock the bathroom door. I am completely fucked up. There is nothing graceful about the way I make my way to the bed and switch on the plasma TV that is mounted on the wall. Squinting at the bedside clock, I see it is nearly six o'clock and time for the news. To my ultimate delight, the leading story is once again Cruella and this time they have footage of her handcuffed and being led into the police department. I throw a pillow over my face and roll around on the bed laughing loudly.

I hear the all too familiar ping signaling that I have a text on my pre-paid phone, even though I do not have a clue as to where it could possibly be. Thinking the phone is in my purse, I fall off the bed with a loud thud that I pray does not bring half of the security team running to the bedroom. In a fleeting moment of clarity, I realize that crawling around my bedroom floor searching for my purse is not exactly normal behavior. I am now on my back, glance back up at the bed, and see my fucking purse. It was beside me the entire time. I am so comfortable lying on the floor that I close my eyes and fall asleep again.

For what seems like another hundred times, I vaguely hear several text message alerts, open my eyes, and raise my head. Whoa…head spin. I pull myself up to the bed and kneel against it to reach my purse. With a drunken grin, I successfully grab the purse strap and drag it toward me. Looking at the phone, I see that the texts are all from Luke. "Great, he probably thinks I have been ignoring him," I slur aloud to myself.

I open the first text message and make a valiant attempt to see straight enough to read it.

_Delete this as soon as you read this…Grey has discovered the files you took from Escala are gone. Taylor has interrogated most the guys in security and Barney is over at Escala digging into all recorded CCTV footage._

I am reading with one eye shut, my brain is not really computing what Luke's message means and it takes me five minutes to find the delete button.

_Christian…Taylor…Escala…Files…Barney…_HICCUP…_Oh, shit._

My unfocused vision tries to make out the second text.

_Your ass had better be asleep and the reason you have not replied. T has me questioning more guys. We are in the clear. DELETE this._

Delete. Delete? Where did that button go? My head is spinning and I feel as though I am about to nod off. I forget which button opens text messages and randomly punch buttons until I find another text from Luke.

_WTF? Answer me so I know you R breathing up there. I WATCHED you take that bottle of wine on the CCTV. DELETE!_

Mr. Second in Command of security sure is fucking bossy. DUUUUH-LEEETE.

Giggling, my head slowly sinks onto the bed, unsteady fingers open up the last text Luke sent me.

_Your presence has been requested downstairs. I am giving you fifteen minutes and then I will be coming through your door._

Undoubtedly, that text was sent fifteen minutes ago, because I hear knocking on the door, although standing up proves difficult.

"Ana. Ana? Unlock the door. Come on, I'm trying to be quiet about this."

It is Luke and he is demanding that I open the door. The very thought has me in a fit of giggles.

"Fuck this, Ana. I can hear you. Get your drunken ass up and open the goddamn door!"

Now laughing hysterically, I stumble to my feet and stagger to the door. Opening it slightly, I peer out and lock eyes with one angry Lucas Sawyer who pushes his way into the room.

"What in the hell, Ana? How the fuck are you going to let Grey and his cronies see you trashed? Go splash cold water on your face and try to wake the fuck up. Several of those fuckers downstairs want to speak with you and you are too wasted to walk! Fuck! Grey is going to love this, Ana! Goddamn!"

Luke grabs a hold of my arms and looks furious as he drags me in the bathroom. He grabs a washrag, soaks it with cold water, and wipes my face and neck with it. I laugh out loud and him

_As if that is going to change how fucked up I am._

"I have never been so goddamn pissed at you, Ana. Where is that fucking phone? I have to delete those texts. Were you capable of reading any of them?" he asks in an enraged voice.

I feel myself being propelled into the bedroom and with one hand steadying me and the other making sure I deleted the text messages. Luke looks at me and shakes his head. My head is spinning and all I want to do is crawl up in a ball and go to sleep.

"Ana, the only reason I am allowing those fuckers to see you in this condition is so Grey can see what this shit has done to you. I doubt he will feel guilty, but he sure as shit will be embarrassed. As for you, keep your fucking mouth shut and I will sit you down by Dr. Trevelyan. Understand?"

I nod my head in a vehement and over exaggerated way. I think Luke is growling at me from anger and frustration.

_Luke growling…_

"Can you even stand by yourself without falling over?" Luke whispers in my ear.

"Think so." Fuck, his face is spinning and I suddenly feel sick to my stomach.

_Shit, I am going to puke._

"Hold on to my arm and we'll go down slowly. Just try to concentrate on walking, Ana. Fuck, I am going to wring your neck for this stunt. I am going to walk you in that room exactly this way. Mother fuckers," Luke spits out.

"What time is it?" I am slurring my words.

"Jesus, you can barely talk! It is nearly eleven thirty at night. Now hold onto me tight, goddamn it!"

Luke is so angry, yet I think it is hilarious. Just the fact that my eyes are unfocused is funny to me. I have not stopped laughing since Luke walked into the bedroom.

Luke's strong grip is keeping me upright, but my legs are unsteady. For some reason, I find the lighting of the staircase to be too bright. Luke now has three heads. My double vision has turned into triple vision.

Practically holding me up, Luke walks me into the family room and I am still giggling. Suddenly, my twisted mind realizes an entire group of people are staring at me. I do not know why they are looking at me strangely, fuck; I am not the sexual deviant in the room.

_Oh, shit. Did I say that aloud?_

"Ana…sweetheart. Are you all right? Luke, what's wrong with her?" Grace's voice.

Christian glares at me and quickly walks over to us.

If I knew where my fingers were, I would flip him off.

"Sawyer, has Mrs. Grey been drinking?" Christian snarls.

"Sir, Dr. Trevelyan, I just found Mrs. Grey very upset. She had locked herself in the bathroom and drank an entire bottle of wine," Luke replies without emotion.

"Did you know she was up there getting hammered, Sawyer?"

_God, this Christian Grey fucker is so annoying._

"No, sir, I did not."

"Oh, darling! Sit by me sweet girl," Grace whispers, her voice thick with unshed tears.

Grace gingerly sits me on the sofa beside her, and then begins to weep.

"If my wife is in this shape, this will be a complete waste of time!" Christian roars at the group of men who are dressed in expensive suits that must come with sticks up their ass.

"Son, you have just discovered that your wife is so upset from all of this that she locked herself in a bathroom, drank an entire bottle of wine and your first concern is this so called waste of time? Have you noticed that your mother is in tears again? Your behavior says a lot, Christian. Quit worrying about your own ass and let your team of dumb fucks continue in panic mode."

_Ohhhhh_. _Carrick is pissed._

Christian has the audacity to glare at his father and Carrick gets in his face.

"Son, you're wife is so upset that she got drunk in a locked bathroom and all you say is that she has wasted your time! Why have you pulled me and your devastated mother into this shit? We are the ones in this room who has had their time wasted, Christian! We have been here for hours watching you pace like a caged lion. Like a guilty caged lion, by the way. You may be my son, but I'll knock that smirk right off your face," Carrick warns Christian in a menacing voice.

I may be cross-eyed but I see Christian's barely contained fury and the room is silent.

"Mr. Grey, all we need for your daughter-in-law to do tomorrow is to be seen out in public with her husband. GEH just needs a positive spin tomorrow and it would be to 's advantage to be seen publically unfazed by all of the questions this article has raised. Plus, we are now positive that Mrs. Lincoln did call your son for the four million dollar bail and we all know the media could find that out," Suit number one tells Carrick.

_WHAT? She called him to bail her out. Did he do it?_

"Along with the ridiculous question whether or not your son was a client of Elena Lincoln's," says suit number two.

That remark makes Grace grab my hand and nearly squeeze the blood from it. My blurry vision studies her face and somewhere in the back of my wine and Percocet infused brain, I realize that she knows the truth about Christian and Elena Lincoln's disgusting past. I lay my head on her shoulder and keep my eyes on Judas across the room whose pulling his hair out.

_I know why you are pulling your hair out._

"That won't be a problem, Sims. I will walk all over fucking Seattle with her for all I care." Christian practically spits out.

The blur that is his black tee shirt moves around the room. The suits think this is about the Seattle Times article. They have no clue, this makes me want to laugh, and I do. All eyes land back on me as Grace pulls me closer. Shit, I am practically in her lap. All around me are loud male voices and the comforting smell of Grace's vanilla scented lotion.

My brain is so far past befuddled but I am still able to focus on what Christian said - "I will walk all over fucking Seattle with 'her' for all I care."

With _her_? Now, even wasted Ana knows that Christian does not really give a fuck about her, but you would think he would not be so blatant about it in front of these men AND his parents. Carrick and Grace are having their son and his pedo ex shoved down their throat just knowing that cunt asked Christian to bail her out. Suddenly, wasted Ana is enraged at both of these thoughts.

I raise my head from Grace's shoulder and point at Christian.

"YOU!" I yell at Christian while pointing at him. The entire room freezes and turns toward me. Christian's expression is a mix of surprise and anger.

"Walk with HER for all you care? I am just a 'her'"? I am attempting to calm my slurring tongue, although my attempt is futile.

"Ana, honey, let's go upstairs. You should go to sleep. It's quite late," Grace gently says.

I use a shaky arm to grab hold of the sofa's armrest and stand on the legs of Bambi.

"Anastasia, go with my mother." It is yet another demand by the deviant. Well, fuck him.

I use the strength of every muscle in my body to stand upright and keep myself from swaying. I continue pointing at the bastard and shake my head.

"No! I am not going anywhere. You refer to your wife as 'her' now days, do ya?" I laugh, only this time it is bitter. "Quit lying to these people about what you're really worried…" At least I did not slur too badly when I said that.

Christian's eyes widen with uncertainty at what his very fucked up wife might slip up and say.

"Anastasia, please, go upstairs to bed. Mother, Luke, will you help her please?" Christian's voice is as cold as ice and I blink away my double vision.

"I am staying right here, Grey. Want to know what else I am not doing? I am not going out with you tomorrow to be seen by the masses. Have all of you suits signed an NDA? Hope so."

Even though I am nearing that coma that Grace warned me about a month ago, I keep talking while I know I am embarrassing myself, and hopefully, Christian as well.

"Sawyer, get her upstairs now."

I feel a strong arm come from behind me at the exact moment our grandfather clocks informs us all that it is midnight.

Midnight, I think and rub my forehead.

Oh, yes. Midnight. June. June 18th. The day a crackwhore gave birth to Satan.

Laughing, I trip on the footrest of a chair in an attempt to get closer to another suit.

"Anastasia!" Christian roars at me.

Just like the clock striking midnight and turning Cinderella's coach into a pumpkin, the clock striking midnight has revived my motor skills. Raising my arm, I flip Christian off and watch his face darken with rage.

_I have just warmed up, Grey._

"Let's get real. That fucker, there…he's not bent out of shape over this news article. He has been nuts all day because he used to fuck Elena Lincoln and he is scared she took pictures of him! That is why he has wasted everyone's time all day…he is terrified the SPD has a Polaroid of him shackled to a bed!"

My screaming announcement is drunken and slurring, but perfectly clear and understandable.

Everyone's mouth is gaping wide open and Christian is racing over to me with murder on his mind.

"Anastasia! Ana! GO upstairs! NOW!"

Christian is screaming at me now and Carrick gets between us and pushes his son away when Christian reaches around his father in an attempt to grab me.

"Make my day, Christian, rush at her again," Carrick says through gritted teeth.

"Oh…hell no, Grey! Boys, your boss fucked that plastic bitch for six years! CEO got that pussy when he was fifteen, too! To top that, boys, he liked for the pedophile to beat his ass with canes and shit…"

"ANASTASIA! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"You shut the fuck up, son! How dare you speak to your wife like that? I do not give a shit how drunk she is! How goddamn dare you? Do not forget she is telling the truth! I have watched you all day knowing perfectly well what was driving you out of your mind! You still stand there in selfish indignation after realizing that now your mother knows the truth. I raised a real son of a bitch, didn't I?"

Carrick's face is blood red from fury as he stands in front of his pale faced son and has pulled Christian to him by his shirt. Poor Grace is sobbing her eyes out, but she does not chastise Carrick for what he is saying or trying to intervene. Why would she? It is all true…even if a fucked up and jilted wife blew the lid off it all.

When an expressionless Christian does not say anything, Carrick shoves him backwards when he lets go of Christian's shirt. Carrick turns to me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek and helps Grace from the sofa.

"Ana, let Luke take you upstairs. Go to rest and sleep this off" Carrick says to me in a hushed tone.

"Christian, I am taking your mother home now. Do yourself a favor and stay the fuck away from me! If I find out you bail Elena Lincoln out of jail, you will both regret it. As far as Ana goes, it is in her best interest to get the fuck away from you. You have goddamn proved to me that you do not give a fuck about her," Carrick yells, blowing all of our eardrums.

I see each set of eyes follow them as they leave the house but my eyes have not left the deviant.

"Sawyer, as the man who signs your paychecks, remove my wife from this room."

_Pays them for the time being, asswipe._

"Yes, sir. Mrs. Grey, please, let's go back to your room."

I grab a hold of Luke's arms with both of my hands, although I am not done screaming incoherent, but damning information about my husband.

"Remember, boys…your boss doesn't give a shit about that article. He is just afraid of being a picture boy of child sex abuse…and that he was able to take a good beating! He likes to hand out…"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, ANA!" Christian screams at me from across the room.

At this point Luke is practically dragging me from the room as I continue to scream and now that fucker Taylor is helping him.

"Mrs. Grey, please let Luke and I help you upstairs," Taylor murmurs and I nearly vomit on his shoes.

I clumsily slip at the threshold of the room and both men quickly grab and stand me back up. I am not that far from Christian now.

"Take a look at your boss, boys! He is a sexual deviant…liked to get it and now he likes to give it," I yell.

Christian once again practically runs in my direction, but Taylor jumps in between us and easily overpowers him.

Luke leans down and with his mouth over my ear tells me to shut the fuck up.

He picks me up and we are now in the hall.

"Goodnight, deviant mommy fucker! I shriek aloud, knowing they can all still hear me.

"Ana, shut the fuck up!" Luke hisses in my ear again.

Then I remember.

"Happy fucking birthday, Christian Grey!"

_Yeah, it was long…This would have been uploaded Wednesday but we had a little storm down here that knocked down trees and power lines, leaving us without power, cell service and the internet, so that's what took so long for an update. I am going on vacation on the 23__rd__, but I will try, try, try to finish and update the next chapter before I leave.~~~Anna_


	22. Chapter 22

All rights to the characters and the story of FSoG belong to E. L. James

_(This is the longest chapter of this story, and when I say long, I mean looooong. I could have divided it into two chapters, but after all of the trouble it was to finish this chapter and update it, I really did not want the bother. If I say I'll update on a certain day and then have important, real life issues with my child who has Autism, rest assured the last thing I care about is updating on that day or any other day.)_

_**The Knife Is Getting Sharper**_

_**Sunday, July 26**__**th**__**, 2015**_

_Seattle, Washington_

_Ana's POV_

I knew this was wrong; but it felt so right.

It was what I had been missing.

It was nothing, something, and everything.

He ran his tongue along my lower lip and softly tugged it, eliciting a moan to escape my throat. Abruptly pushing me onto the bed, his hands grabbed the sides of my face, boring his eyes into mine. I felt a rush of warmth throughout my body and gasp as he kissed me violently. My mouth grasped a hold of his tongue and sucked it slowly. He is groaning, a sexy mixture of lust and longing, as his body hovered over me, and he pulled up my skirt in near desperation. Our mouths fiercely attacked one another and our panting broke the silence of the room. There was a vengeance between my legs and I opened them wider until he was firmly resting in between them. He sat up to drag his shirt over his head. My fumbling and trembling fingers were tearing at the button and zipper of his jeans, which he kindly pulled off for me, as he once again assaulted my mouth.

"Take off your shirt and bra," he ordered me, licking his lips.

Practically ripping them off my body, he roughly pushed my skirt up to my hips. Writhing, I desperately pulled my panties down. My hand pushed his head where I needed it to be. His mouth licked and teased my nipples and I moaned underneath his toned and firm body. He Inserted two fingers inside of me and I called out his name in a voice that was not my own.

"Please," I begged him, not understanding if my plea was for him to continue or to stop.

"Please, what?" He asked and lowered his body until his head was in between my legs. He nipped and sucked while I threw my head back and arched my back.

I was so close that my legs had begun to tremble. I pulled his hair, began to thrust my hips to meet his tongue, and panted out an incoherent version of his name. Just as I began to fall off the precipice that I was leaning over, his fingers must have felt my insides gripping them and he stopped, chuckling at my impassioned protest. My impatient hands pulled at his triceps to hurry him up as he slowly stalked up my body.

"You never answered my question. What do you want me to do to you?" His breathing was rushed. His chest was heaving as he gazed upon my face.

I knew he craved this as badly as I did.

"I need you inside me."

"I need to be inside of you," he hoarsely whispered on my lips, kissing me hard and fast. I tasted myself on his tongue and it enraged my blood.

Our eyes locked as he delicately slid into me, filling and stretching me.

Owning me.

With one hand on the back of his neck and the other tugging his hair, I pulled his head next to my ear and listened to his harsh breathing. He slowly moved in and out until I could no longer stand the slow pace.

"Faster, faster, please." I begged him while he hissed though gritted teeth.

I barely registered when he began to slam into me, groaning, and causing me to cry out. Our breathing was ragged and uncontained and I felt that familiar pulling sensation inside of me. Once again, he ravaged my mouth, only to rest his forehead on mine. I knew that we were seconds from letting go. The mixture of our lust ran down my thighs.

"That…there…Oh, don't stop…"

"Baby, I will never stop."

As I felt myself being torn from my body, I opened my eyes and gazed upon the ones that were studying my face. I felt his hot breath upon my forehead; once again, our eyes locked.

His eyes were glowing.

Intense.

Possessive.

They were gray.

At that very second, I jump in the chair I have been sleeping in and hear the thumping of Kate's fetal monitor. Looking around the room, I see my best friend sound asleep with Grace sitting in a chair across the room. Elliot is awake and sprawled out in a chair beside Kate's bed. I catch Elliot's eyes and see him grinning at me.

"What kind of dream were you having over there, little girl? Between the squirming and that moan that I heard…"

Grace glowers at her oldest son who is now laughing at me.

"Elliot Trevelyan Grey! I will not sit here and listen to you talk filthy to your sister-in-law! Of all the times in the world and your mind is in the gutter! Where did I go wrong raising you?" She scolds him. Looking at Elliot with a smile on my face, I shake my head. If Grace were not in the room, his goofy grin, and twinkling, blue eyes would have me laughing along with him.

Gazing up at the clock, I note that it is going on five in the morning and I stand up and stretch. The vivid dream I was having has left me disconcerted and confused. Of all of the men in the world, why would I dream of fucking Christian, when the conscious thought repulses me? Oh, well. Dreams are shit in my book anyway, although my psychiatrist is going to have a field day with this.

This is the third night of Kate's hospitalization since developing preeclampsia. Instead of the doctor's best efforts to stall its progression, it has only worsened and it appears that Emma Grace will be making an early appearance despite that Kate has just entered her thirty-fifth week of pregnancy. With a daily influx of Grey's and Kavanagh's descending upon Kate, whose medical condition has only exacerbated her naturally bitchy disposition, the families have decided to keep visitors to a minimum, although Kate has loudly voiced that this rule does not apply to me. As I know Kate probably even more so than Elliot does, I realize she wants me around so she stays aware of what I am up to. Not only is she pissed that she is missing "all the fun" as she described it, she also feels as if she has let me down somehow, which I told her was bullshit. From now on, I tell her the basics and am eat up with guilt that my drama caused her condition. God forbid I am the reason Kate's situation worsens and they have to take the baby earlier than the doctor's want, which is at least at the end of her thirty-seventh week. Even after Grace and Kate's OB explained to us how preeclampsia develops, I still feel guilty. For now we all sit around and wait. Wait to see if her condition worsens and cater to Katherine Agnes Grey.

I never had to mention that Kate and Elliot's pregnancy scare has been a blessing when it comes to Christian and me. We have made a handful of times to meet at the hospital at the same time and I have interacted appropriately considering our situation. I have attended a few high profile events with Christian, but only to keep public questions at bay and until Kate got ill, we still attended the Grey Sunday dinner together. Christian thinks I am simply getting over the situation concerning Elena and is oblivious to the truth. Of course, no family member has dared mention a word to either of us and I dare say they are terrified to ask. They are intimidated by Christian's raging fits and obviously perplexed that I no longer act like the Ana they are used to. With Christian having a couple of overseas business trips and me attending another out of town publishing conference, our contact has been limited to emails and texts with a few Skype sessions thrown in here and then. Overall, it is fucking pathetic.

It has been one month and eight days.

One month and eight days since Elena Lincoln's arrest.

One month and eight days since Christian's birthday.

One month and eight days since Carrick Grey led his wife to their car that was parked in our driveway and stormed back into our home. To everyone's awe Christian's father steamrolled his way into our family room and essentially grabbed his son by the scruff of his neck and ordered Taylor to escort him to Escala, where he has been ever since. Carrick berated Christian for his treatment of me in front of his employees and I swear that through my double vision I saw Christian cower from his father. Although I found it to be an immediate relief, as the days crept along, so did the questions concerning Christian's continued living quarters. The answer was simple enough, it all boiled down to the fact I discovered that Christian had been lying to me about his business affairs with Elena Lincoln. Well, the answer was simple to Elliot and Mia, considering that Carrick and Grace knew the disgusting truth. However, as weeks went by, I would often catch Elliot staring at me with eyes full of questions and Kate said that he had begun to badger her about what she knew. A week after GEH went under a spotlight of public scrutiny, Mia thankfully headed for a month in Fiji with Ethan. I could handle Elliot's unspoken questions, but Mia was another animal entirely. A prolonged and essentially vague separation of her brother and his wife would have resulted in non-stop questions. The duo did return, however, when Kate got ill, and obviously, Carrick and Grace must have instructed Mia not to inquire about Christian and me since she has been on radio silence. Ray handled the odd circumstances similar to Elliot, although he voiced that Christian lying to me for years over a sketchy business arrangement with Elena was a valid reason for my personal space in which to breathe.

Christian let the controversy over his business deal with Elena Lincoln pass for a few days before questioning my reasons to work through my feelings over the matter. Claiming that he could see my point of view and apologizing from both sides of his mouth, Christian did his best to sit on his hands and not interfere with how I was "hurting." I was hurt, although not over the fact that I was married to a grown man brainwashed by an old hag and pedophile. Not just a pedophile, but a woman who had molested him for years and he had remained in constant contact with her. When Christian's laid back and understanding attitude turned into his usual sulking and shutting down, he then became enraged when I still had not "gotten over it." It was this belligerent Christian that Carrick shut down. Our relationship has now settled into a distant albeit cool one. Luke informed me that when I told Christian I was in therapy, he told Taylor that therapy "should help me get over it." Luke was driving to Grey Publishing when he repeated the story and met my eyes in the rear view mirror while we laughed.

Despite his absence, Christian's control still knows no bounds and other than Taylor, the only other goons he took with him were Ryan and Daniels. I had prayed for Reynolds departure as I despise him and I bet my left tit that he is aware of Christian's behavior and is probably aiding Christian. Luke cannot find evidence to affirm my gut feeling, although he agrees with me. Even though I think Reynolds is a slime ball, he has proved no trouble for Kate and me as we spent time prior to her illness slipping my important belongings from the house. We had every piece of my ridiculously expensive jewelry out in three days and within a week and a half, I had removed most of my clothing. Kate had gone beyond my expectations furnishing what was my new home. My own goon squad rivals Christian's and I have already made it clear that while our relationship is professional, it will never be cold or impersonal as my husband's is with his employees nor will they call me anything other than Ana. Luke is second in command on Christian's payroll, while one of mine follows us covertly in case Judas is having me followed. For now my goon squad, or hot squad, as my super flirtatious best friend refers to them, live in a beautiful home on Lake Sammamish with four Cadillac SUV's in each of the home's garages. I bought the house in my daddy's name to keep everything under Christian's radar.

The only day that had me despondent and feeling like shit was the morning after Christian's birthday when Gail woke up and found her husband was not at home. She was aware of the basic bones of the Elena situation and after explaining how Carrick threw Christian from the house and Taylor went with him, I simply told her it was best for them both if she returned to Escala to be with her husband. The look on Gail's face was painful to bear and after thirty minutes of convincing her, Gail finally broke down and allowed Reynolds to take her to Escala. I knew that once she went with her husband that she would immediately see the lifestyle Christian had returned to and that it would break her heart. Gail is a shrewd woman and whether she begins to wonder if Taylor had previous knowledge of this is something time will only tell. I am positive that she knows what Christian has gone back to is the actual reason we are living a part. After Gail left, I felt completely alone and with that feeling came the knowledge that it would not only be Gail leaving my life. Dr. Swann tells me it is simply a life transition.

"Ana, look at it this way. People flow into our lives, taking away beautiful parts of us, and leave behind beautiful parts of themselves. We may lose these people's physical presence, but they will always live within us." Her kind eyes meet mine as if she is conveying a deeper meaning.

"What if I don't want them to leave me their beautiful shit? What happens when they all leave, which they are going to and I am alone and devastated? What then?" I whisper.

"Then you will grieve their loss, always love them, and move on," she quietly replies.

I am thinking about Dr. Swann's words, sitting on a pew in the hospital's chapel at six-thirty in the morning, a cup of cold tea in my hand. I am not particularly religious and I have not escaped into this sanctuary to pray for holy intervention. The truth of the matter is that I felt a need to escape a room I considered full of my loss. My future is meticulously planned, although those plans will probably involve palpable loss and an adequate amount of rejection.

The chapel is dim with fake fluorescent candlesticks lighting the room and has stain glassed windows. The first row pew grants me a direct view of a large cross on the wall and there is a Bible beside me. I sit my tea down and absentmindedly flip through the pages, reminded of my early years with Carla and vacation Bible school. I end up on 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7. Christian's grandfather read it aloud at our wedding. I look back at our wedding, it does not bring pain or tear me apart like it would have months earlier. What these Bible verses mean to me are what they are intended to and do not remind me how my husband broke each of them. The truth of the matter is that I no longer care. Protecting Ana is what matters to me and I will learn how to do that in a productive and healthy way. Drowning in self-pity and self-doubt are out of the question and my indifference to them both is like a door that I am slowly closing.

I hear the chapel door open, assuming it is Luke since he was standing beside it after I went in. However, my intense familiarity of my husband tells me it is Christian before he sits down beside me. I am confused that he is not in a suit until I realize it is Sunday. I smirk to myself once I realize the day, as I am aware that a Miss Haley Sams is currently at Escala. Their initial contract ended the beginning of July and they extended it for another three months. She must be able to take one hell of a beating. If Christian only knew their playroom time could be a best seller on a porn website.

Christian looks at the open Bible I am holding. "That is the passage gramps read at our wedding." There is a tinge of sadness in his voice.

Snapping the Bible shut, I toss it beside me and nod. "Yes. Yes, it was."

We are both staring at the cross in front of us, each lost in their own thoughts and not saying a word. A husband and his wife, a man and a woman, better yet, two complete strangers. We never truly knew who the other was. We both underestimated me and in different ways, we both overestimated him. Christian and I never played a game of cat and mouse, not even a game of chess. Yet, here we are, in a do or die game of chess, yet one of us has not realized it is now their move.

"Why are you here so early in the morning?" I ask.

"Sawyer told Taylor you had stayed the night and since I was already back from my morning run, I just headed over." Christian takes a hold of my hand. Weeks ago, his touch felt like scalding water, now I am capable of blocking any feeling out.

"How is Kate? I did not have a chance to speak with anyone last night." He asks me.

I know the reason that he didn't speak to any of us last night and his statement should amuse me. Instead, I pity this man. When he could have been at the hospital with us during what could be a dire family situation, he chose to fuck and beat his paid whore senseless. Christian is a man all alone in his mind, a man afloat at sea. He has unconditional love from so many people, although he turns away and rejects it. I do not concern myself with his issues though and do not search for the reason behind them. However, I do hurt for his family, and I would do anything to take the pain of Christian's rejection away.

"She isn't getting any better. Her blood pressure is not under control, her protein levels are outrageous, and she is unbelievably swollen. It is almost a sure thing they will take the baby sooner rather than later," I reply and Christian squeezes my hand, causing me to look at him in confusion.

Christian says nothing and we retreat into silence, as if we are both an island state. I am unsure as to why he is here or if there is something concealed behind his behavior. Knowing that I would never believe anything he told me, I do not bother asking.

He turns to me, a day's worth of stubble on his beautiful face and his gray eyes examine my face.

"Do you still think about us having a child, Anastasia?" He sounds earnest.

Every muscle in my body stills and my heart falls into my stomach. He either is playing some sort of sick game to fuck with my head or has lost his mind. I stare at him quizzically for some time and attempt to find an answer.

"No. No, Christian, I stopped thinking about that a long time ago," I reply, attempting to keep my voice as normal as possible and anger at bay. I can allow him to be curious about the change in my attitude while I fight the urge to stab him with the cross hanging from the wall.

Christian stares at me bemused and it is almost laughable. His gray eyes are intense as they bore into my blue eyes as if they are trying to get behind them and into my head. I am sure that he is trying to fuck with my head.

"Why did you change your mind? What I am really trying to ask is if you ever picture us having a child." Christian's voice is nearly inaudible and childlike. I am wondering if Miss Sams was the one wielding the cane last night and knocked him senseless.

"Hell, Christian, isn't it too early to be discussing such heavy shit? I changed my mind to focus on my career and because I feel too young to become a mother." I snap at him irritably and he looks surprised.

Christian does not speak for a while and disgust churns in my soul. I want to slap him across the face and then refer him to a good psychiatrist.

"How…How did you change your mind so easily? The want…how did that want you felt just suddenly leave?"

Shocked, I do not look at him because I realize that he is referring to something entirely different. Christian's incredible words bounce around my skull and my eyes are set on the chapel's carpet. All I can do is shake my head that I slowly turn to face him. His expression is one of pure and honest curiosity, as one who cannot comprehend such a thing as change.

"Why are you asking me this, Christian?" I ask in a soft whisper. I am incredulous. I am beyond angry. I am also curious.

Christian rests his elbows on his legs and places his head in his hands. Exhaling a long held breath, Christian runs a hand through his hair. His trademark move when he is stressed, angry, or confused.

"I'm not sure…but I believe it is because I have found out more concerning Elena and her past. I thought about you asking me how I would feel if she had done that to my son. Then one night I had a nightmare that we had a son that Elena got a hold of and it has been eating at me for days now. I have a nightmare every night since you have been gone," he replies quietly.

I scoff at him and ignore his words about my absence. "Well, just remember that Elena is still in jail and is looking at a very long prison stay. That horrid woman will not be torturing any more young boys. Nor will she brainwashing them into a life of BDSM with a need to beat women." I throw my venomous words at him and they resonate off the chapel walls.

Christian laughs bitterly, straightens up, and faces me. "Where were you when I was fifteen?"

A small part of me feels for this damaged man and I admit that his entire life has been spent in hell. Nevertheless, not everyone decides to live in that hell. Staying mired in it is a conscious decision. The rest of me realizes that his personal hell had no place being dumped onto my life. Do I wish him a smooth road for the rest of his life? Yes, I do. Does he deserve to free himself of the demons trapped inside of him? Yes, he does. Will I aid Christian to have these things? No, I never will, and yes, I am going to make him suffer the way he has made me suffer.

"When you were fifteen, I was younger enduring emotional and physical abuse that led to being raped at the age of eleven. I would not have been your savior. God knows that I never had one."

I can feel my anger shining from eyes, turning them from a pale cerulean blue into darkened navy and watching Christian's face, I can tell he has seen it as well; he is acquainted with the way my eyes look when I am furious. His gray eyes are wide and sad and I suppose it is due to his remembering my own personal hell. I pull my hand away and run it through my hair. Before either of us can say another word, the chapel's double doors suddenly open. Luke and Taylor are staring at us with grim expressions.

"Mr. Grey, Mrs. Grey, your sister-in-law has just been rushed into the OR for an emergency C-section," Taylor hurriedly tells us.

I do not hear nor do I see another thing as I sprint down a hospital corridor in search of my dearest friend.

_**Thursday, July 30**__**th**__**, 2015**_

Emma Grace Grey may have entered this world several weeks earlier than expected, but at a whopping four days old, she has already proven that she is a sturdy little bitch like her mother. This identical clone of her father weighed in at four pounds and six ounces and after three days in NICU, Katherine Grey's daughter already weighs five pounds and spends most of the time screaming her little blonde head off. Kate is perfectly fine and if she was not stoned on pain medication due to her C-section, I suppose her inner bitch would not have turned into a dog of Satan. It is amusing and annoying at the same time. I am irritable about what this day brings so l am about to leave after visiting Kate and the baby so I can hurry up and get this out of the way. I bid farewell to Elliot and Emma Grace and feel Kate's eyes on my back. She is aware of what I am off to do and has voiced her irritation at not being able to go with me for support. When I reminded her that I would have Luke with me, Kate told me to fuck off.

I open the door and nearly jump out of my skin when I walk right into Christian. Of course, he knows my schedule for today, although he believes I am going to Vancouver on GP business. After that meeting, I am flying to the east coast for a two-day publishing conference. Christian made sure the GEH jet was available for me to use.

Before I move out of the way so that Christian can enter the room, he bends down to kiss me on the cheek. He looks mouth watering good in a black suit, crisp white shirt and a silver tie. Offering him a patented shy smile, I reach up and give him a peck on the lips, simply for Elliot's benefit. Elliot stands to greet his brother and somehow manages to shake his hand while holding Emma Grace in his arms.

"You're here early, bro. Did ya bring doughnuts and coffee? Elliot asks in his usual jovial manner despite the fact his eyes are darting between Christian and me.

I suddenly question if I have made the wrong move too early in the game. It enters my mind that someone as close to Christian as Elliot is might notice the slightest odd behavior. Not to mention that behind Elliot's torn and dirty jeans from building homes lays an intelligent and quite astute man. Christian and Elliot may outwardly appear polar opposites, but they are both brilliant executives in their own right. Perhaps it is paranoia, but now I really want out of the room in which Kate and I are playing charades.

"No, fuck head, I didn't. I just thought that I would drop by on my way to the office. Anastasia told me she was coming by early before her trip and I thought I would see her before she left."

Elliot looks at me but ignores his brother's remark. It is unmistakable that he is desperate to know what is going on.

"How the fuck do you stand wearing those monkey suits day in and day out? I would be the only billionaire CEO in shorts and flip flips," Elliot teases Christian and Kate and I obligatory laugh.

"Fuck off, Elliot."

"Grey, don't use that language around the baby. I don't want her first word to be fuck," Kate snaps at Christian, making him laugh.

"Well, don't let the girls live with this giant idiot. He has been saying the word fuck since he was ten."

"Yeah, bro, and you were seven, so don't give me that shit," Elliot retorts.

I cannot take another second of this and feel the stagnant air around us. I am a breath away from a panic attack. "I had really better leave now. Being late for this meeting will make me look like one shitty CEO," I attempt to sound cheerful.

Three sets of eyes look at me and I know that Kate is doing her best to appear neutral and bored concerning my meeting.

"Just go then, Ana. Go by campus and flip off the dean for me," she giggles and I bend over to kiss her head.

"It's a deal. I will call you before I take off and when I land. Just quit bossing the nurses around and give poor Elliot a break. The man deserves the Medal of Honor for putting up with you."

"Be careful, Ana Banana and watch out for those college boys. Your still young and rockin' it," Elliot says, his eyes gleaming as Christian scowls at him.

I turn to Christian and look him in the eyes. Really, really, look in his eyes. I have not in so very long and I am positive that I will never do it again. At least not under a happy circumstance.

"I'm off now. I know that Sawyer will report every little detail to Taylor and that you'll know I'm alright," I say, my eyes still locked on those gray and reflecting pools.

"You're taking off around noon?"

"That's when I expect to. But you of all people know how long a monotonous meeting can run over."

"Just stick by Sawyer and do not try to ditch him, Anastasia. He is just doing his job and does not need you to make it harder on him," he says.

"Oh, okay, just as long as he lets me pee by myself," I say, giggling. I know that Kate must be dying trying to keep a poker face for Elliot's benefit.

Hands shoved in his pants pockets, wearing a halfhearted smile and actually confusing me with his expression, Christian nods at me.

For an unknown reason, I am compelled to touch his face, for probably the very last time and he leans into my touch. This shocking move on his part makes me wonder what the fuck? Then again, I remember, Elliot is present. I remove my hand quickly and Christian lowers his head and kisses me. Something that has not happened for some time now. I know that my cheeks are flooding into a blush and I am the one to break contact. If I am not mistaken, Christian appears bereft. I glance behind him to find that Kate has turned her head and is gazing out the window, while Elliot's eyes are locked upon us. Suspicion and his unspoken questions rest on those eyes, although he offers me a small smile.

"Okay, I really am leaving this time. Christian, I will call you before I leave and once I land."

"Okay, baby. Be safe and stay next to Sawyer," Christian says to me in an authoritative voice.

"I will. Do not worry. I will see you all in a few days."

God get me out of here.

My best friend and brother-in-law simply nod at me as I open the door to leave when Christian says something that stops me in my tracks.

"I love you, Anastasia."

Quickly glancing back at Christian, I smile and tell him that I love him too.

I am sitting across a large conference table watching Bee Darlington and Allison Kendall go over the information that had already been provided to them. I wanted all of that sick shit sent ahead of my appointment because I did not want to endure telling the tale or sitting through another porn video again. Bee Darlington is the founder and lead counsel of the law firm of Darlington, Kendall, and Colter. Mrs. Darlington is an attractive woman in her early fifties who could easily pass as a woman ten years younger. She looks more like a bored, rich homemaker when she is really a cutthroat attorney. Mrs. Darlington wasted no time for pleasantries and after shaking my hand quite firmly, I followed her into a large conference room. The firm's junior partner, Allison Kendall was already waiting for us. Allison Kendall is the attorney that I have been speaking and meeting with and we have gotten to know each other quite well, in fact, I would say that we have bonded. She is the one I confided in and had offered to help me. She is also the attorney who will be traveling with me in a matter of hours. Allison has an Ivy League education and a mile wide streak for rough justice. Physically, she is the complete opposite of her boss, mid thirties and attractive, but unlike Bee Darlington, her beauty is understated. She sees life through her glasses as a clear cut black and white. Although possessing a warm and welcoming personality, I have luckily found a woman who is not only book smart she is also street smart.

Both women smile and give nothing away. I would not expect Allison Kendall to react since she is aware of every dirty detail as well as what I have yet to share with Mrs. Darlington.

Mrs. Darlington finally speaks.

"Mrs. Grey…," she begins to say.

"Mrs. Darlington, please just call me Ana. I hate being called Mrs. Grey." I tell her and she smiles at me.

"Well then, Ana, please call me Bee. First off, it is nice to finally meet you face to face, although I do apologize for the circumstances that bring you here."

"It is nice to meet you as well. Please, do not apologize for anything. No one in this room has anything to be sorry for," I reply and do my best not to sound bitter.

Both women nod their heads and Ms. Kendall speaks up. "Ana, since speaking with you a few times already, I have a bit more knowledge of why you sought out our services. Along with Bee, I have meticulously gone over every document, and well, the other, let us say information that you handed over to us. Bee agrees it most certainly places your husband under a very disturbing light."

"Yes, Ana, I agree with Allison. Nevertheless, we are not here to make judgments on one's personal lives, we are here to serve our clients and ultimately get them what they are due. This question is redundant, but it is a divorce you are seeking, correct?" She asks and is making notes on a legal pad.

"You are correct, Bee. The evidence dating back to the very beginning of my marriage leaves no room for anything other than a divorce."

Bee Darlington removes her glasses and takes a sip of water before continuing. "So you haven't considered filing for a legal separation first?"

"Filing for a separation looks as though there is a chance of reconciliation. That is not the case in my situation. I want to begin divorce proceedings immediately."

Bee holds her hand up. "Well, let us fill you in on some things you should take into consideration before you say that you want to file immediately," she states.

"Okay, let us get some important details out of the way first. Mr. Grey, who despite is a CEO of a multi-billion dollar private company, never asked you for a pre-nuptial agreement, correct?"

I laugh as I think of Christian's stupidity. He must have really felt as if he had conquered his preferred way of life or had some sort of death wish. I do not let my thoughts linger on whatever it is that lives in Christian's mind. To do so is a colossal waste of time. He is nothing but fucked up.

"When we got married he told his lawyers that he trusted me and believed that our marriage was for life," I reply, shaking my head.

Bee is scribbling away with her Mont Blanc pen. "My legal assistant put in many hours scouring through Mr. Grey's assets along with your own. Washington State is a community property state as I assume you are aware. I need you to tell me what you know concerning his assets, properties, liquid cash, in order to determine if you have adequate knowledge of them. When it comes down to a situation such as yours, Ana, your knowledge is where your power lies," she says.

"You want to find out if he has kept assets hidden from me?"

Both women nod at the same time.

"Yes. Just write down on the legal pad concerning bank accounts, any stock holdings, shared or not, properties and even simple things as shared and private credit cards. We simply want to compare our findings with yours. It is no secret that in matters such as these that a spouse will keep certain things hidden," Allison says.

As I jot down everything that I know of, all I can hear is the ticking of the grandfather clock in the far corner. I am finished after what seems like forever and I give the women the legal pad, watching their eyes go from their findings to mine. Bee Darlington scratches her chin and looks up at me.

"It appears you are unaware that Mr. Grey has three additional bank accounts. He has two off shore and one in a Swiss bank. Is that the case or did you forget?" She asks me. I admit that for some reason I am surprised.

"I had no prior knowledge of those bank accounts. No, wait a minute. Wasn't it an offshore banking account that my husband was keeping Elena Lincoln's salons afloat with?" Now I feel stupid.

Bee purses her lips. "Unfortunately."

"Ana, I have no doubt you are aware that your husband is listed as the sixteenth wealthiest man in the country. However, I do wonder if you know his net worth?" Bee quizzes me, cocking her head.

"No, Bee. I have not the slightest idea. I have never seen anything concerning tax filings or anything like that. Christian's accountant handles everything to do with his and I have my own accountant due to Grey Publishing," I reply.

Allison quickly writes something on a piece of paper and then slides it my way. To say that I am flabbergasted would be an understatement. I knew that we were rich, but whoa, that kind of rich?

I place the piece of paper on the table and purse my lips, saying nothing since my mind just went into overdrive. Both attorneys' remain silent; I suppose to give me the time to process this bit of new information. New information? Whom am I kidding? This is outrageous information.

Allison breaks the silence. "Of course this is based upon all tax returns since Mr. Grey started his company. We also must take into account the monies we discovered in the three additional bank accounts that you had no prior knowledge of."

"Christian did file taxes on those bank accounts, didn't he?" I ask.

"Yes. I gathered a lot about your husband, but being stupid wasn't one of them."

"Ana, how many shared bank accounts do you have with your husband?" Bee inquires.

"Five. I also have my private bank account from my personal earnings at Grey Publishing. Christian also makes frequent deposits into the account," I reply.

"Are these deposits large ones? I ask this to know whether your husband was strict over money or had a liberal attitude with how you spent it."

"They were always substantial amounts of money and Christian has always encouraged me to spend our money. He always referred to his prior earnings as our money after we married."

"Hmm…We know about the account and your company being solely in your name along with your home." Bee continues her questioning and I just nod. "I will get back to these types of questions in a minute. Right now, I want to address what you said earlier about filing for a divorce immediately since you mentioned having five shared bank accounts."

"Okay."

"Despite having the advantage due to the lack of a pre nuptial agreement, once a divorce is filed and until it is settled, getting access to the money in each of those accounts can often be precarious. Because your husband is Christian Grey, in the beginning of this process, he is going to be the one with the advantage financially. Take into account that even though he walked into this marriage without protecting a dime of a mind blowing empire, until this is either taken care of in a courtroom or you both agree with some type of settlement, Grey will have the upper hand."

"Well, Bee, that sounds precarious. I assume, rather, I hope you're about to tell me a way to circumvent that from happening," I reply.

Bee offers a reassuring smile.

"Yes, I am, and I say this with the utmost importance and I suggest you do it right before you file for divorce. For one, your husband may discover your actions and secondly, if you don't do it before you file, then it will be illegal."

"What do I need to do then? Concerning the bank accounts, that is. I already know what I have planned for other things, but I will fill you in on that once you're finished informing me about all of this other important information."

Bee stares at me and I know it is because I said that I already had plans over certain other things. Yet, she lets it pass for the time being.

"Ana, we recommend, and we tell all of our clients this, we recommend that you go to each joint account and withdraw half of the money in it." Allison says.

"But, Ana, not until right before you file for divorce. Even if it is five minutes before this is filed and your husband is served. Once he is made aware, even without a pre nup, it could get messy for us. Well, at least for a small amount of time that is," Bee says.

I strum my fingers on the table before I speak. "I understand and that is what I will do. I should not have said immediately in the first place. Plus, I still want to sit down and tell his family first."

Bee and Allison simultaneously shake their heads vehemently.

"Telling your husband's family before withdrawing that money and filing for divorce is nothing more than you committing suicide. Even if you are closer to them than you are to God, go speak with them afterward. Go talk to them the minute after you file if you wish to. Under no circumstances do you talk to them before you file. Do you understand?" Bee asks in a most irritated tone.

While Bee and Allison's advice goes against how I wanted to handle it, I can look at the situation and know it makes sense. If Christian gets to them first and attempts to place me in the role of the bad guy, then so be it. I can only pray that they will look past it and remember who I really am.

I sigh deeply and agree to do what they say.

"Okay, Bee, Allison. I understand and will comply concerning withdrawing the money and talking to the Grey family. I also know that you have taken your time to explain to me what to expect when it comes to Washington being a community property state and that even without a pre nup it can be taken into court for a fight over a settlement. I'm fully aware that you feel as though you have to school me in all of this in case I have a last minute change of heart over what I have already told you I plan to do."

I point at the mid size box in the center of the table. The contents inside protected by bubble wrap, just as the boxes future contents will be.

"Both of you are fully cognizant of my situation. You have seen, read, and watched everything collected thus far. The only way I will have a change of heart concerning this is if I obtain a head injury. That said you know as well as I do that when my demands are presented to Christian that he is going to laugh in our faces. That box, along with what is yet to come, will have Christian Grey agree to everything. He is not going to know what hit him and I am going to walk away with everything that I want."

I step off the GEH jet five hours and nearly three thousand miles later. The minute the door opens, we are hit in the face with a sledgehammer of humidity. I have never understood how people can tolerate this kind of weather and am quite spoiled to the cool and dreary days of Seattle. Behind me are Allison Kendall and Patricia Hudson, a public notary and several of my personal goon squad. It seems that one Lucas Sawyer took a liking to Ms. Kendall as they sat together the entire flight talking and flirting with one another. Katherine was obviously correct that the situation with Luke was a simple hormonal reaction on both of our parts and neither of us has brought it up. We are once again a pair of feuding siblings where the older brother always wins.

After checking into the Henry Norman Hotel, I call Kate and Christian to let them know I arrived safely. Obviously, Elliot was not in the room since Kate was going on and on over what was about to happen. I do believe that in her mind, Kate believes I never survived until I was eighteen-years-old and met her. There is no doubt that her actual problem is that she is pissed she is not with me to witness this happy little fun time. Kate is only pacified when she is reminded that she will eventually be able to see it played out. Unable to reach Christian by his cell phone, I call Andrea who informs me that Christian is in the middle of a meeting. Since my IT guy, Craig Gibson had already informed me, this was nothing I already did not know.

Each of us women excused ourselves to freshen up and once we were finished, it appeared that Luke and the goon squad had sat around either picking their noses or eating their toothpicks. I had chosen the way I wanted to look carefully. I had no desire to appear as a wife, even if I am the wife of a billionaire. I wanted to look like the powerful CEO that I was, regardless if Christian taught me how to play the part. Disregarding the heat, I decided to wear my Stella McCartney black Faye top and black Etty trousers, also from Stella McCartney and put on my blood red Louboutin's. I want to be the woman in black. I pulled my long hair into a ponytail to display my four carat Tiffany solitaire earrings and slipped on the Aqua Terra Omega Master watch that Christian had given me for my birthday last year. My two many carats Tiffany engagement and wedding band weighed down my finger as I slid on a pair of black oversized Gucci sunglasses.

Samuel Winston, who was Luke's latest hire, met us in front of the hotel in a large black Suburban with three rows of seating and barely legal tinted windows. Luke was riding shotgun while Winston drove. I sat in the second row seat that was closest to the passenger door and Allison Kendall was sitting with another security member named Tom Hill in the third row seats. Every second of this had been planned, no detail left undone. Members of my security had monitored and studied each days schedule and routine. Pictures had been taken and I had studied them long and hard. Nothing could be missed and nothing was missed.

This next step is all mine.

Twenty minutes later, Luke gives me a reassuring smile and helps me from the SUV. I make my way to a small and forgettable brick building with three brick columns in front of it. I partially stood behind one of the columns, partly to get out of the hot sun as well as having the advantage of surprise. Luke, facing me, is standing beside the still open passenger side door. At the exact time as expected, I see a petite woman in workout clothes and holding a bottle of water approaching. Her once long brunette hair was now a pixie cut. I could tell from where I was standing she is quite short and I was pleased that I was in six-inch heels and would tower over her. I slowly walked to her and then stopped directly in her way. She had ear buds in, was looking down, and ran right into me. Jumping back startled, she raised her head quickly and looked up at my smiling face. I motioned for her to remove the ear buds and placed my entwined hands in front of me. I am positive she must have thought I was the grim reaper all dressed in black. Her eyes are wide with apprehension, although I remain in a non-threatening stance. I can tell from behind the jet-black lenses of my sunglasses that she has no idea who I am.

"Mrs. Declan, I presume?" I say and extend my hand for her to shake.

She says nothing and it is now that I finally see her take me in. Her eyes roam from the top of my head to my red Louboutin's and then to the Omega resting on my outstretched arm.

"Who are you?" There is a tiny tremulous vibration in her question and she still has not taken my proffered hand. Is it not a contradiction that a little sub does not like strangers? I will give her credit though; I would not be comfortable with a stranger approaching me either.

I slightly cock my head to the left and take a moment to look her in the face. Perhaps if her hair were still long she would resemble me the way she did in her photos from 2013. We both have petite and slight frames and pale skin. I am surprised that her eyes are eerily the same color as mine. It makes me want to gag.

"Hillary…You don't mind if I call you Hillary, do you?" I am wearing a warm and polite smile. "Hillary, my name is Ana, Ana Grey. I believe you know my husband Christian Grey?"

As long as I have lived on this planet, I have never seen a person pale as quickly as this paid whore slash mommy teacher did. I initially thought she was going to faint and a small part of me wished she would have. I continue to smile with my hand held out.

"What is the matter Hillary? Are you afraid to shake my hand? We both know it has been in the same places after all." I allow my face to appear friendly and my words to sting.

Hillary Wilkins Declan takes several deep breaths before finally shaking my hand. Her palm is sweaty and I hope the strong and firm handshake I am giving her hurts. Well, no, on second thought she would like a bit of pain.

"What do you want…What…Why are you here? Umm…Mrs. Grey?" She finally manages to stutter as she squares her shoulder and stands straighter. It amuses me. She is trying to appear as if a ghost has not reached out and touched her.

"Hillary, I have come a long way to see you. We have a mutual…interest, shall we say and I would very much appreciate your time," I say in my now patented CEO voice.

She shakes her head as if to clear it. "We don't have any mutual interests. I don't even know who you are or how you know my name."

I cannot help the unexpected giggle that escapes me. "Oh, Hillary! You can surely do better than that. You know exactly who my husband is as well as who I am. Since I know everything there is to know about you Hillary, I would appreciate if you would come back to my hotel so we can talk and take care of a few minor business issues."

"Business issues? What kind of business issues do you think I have with you? Like I said, I've never even heard your name before."

Hillary Declan finally notices the hulk that is Lucas Sawyer and the open vehicle door he is standing by. Jerking her head back to me with panicked eyes, Mrs. Declan looks as if she is about to yell out "Stranger Danger!"

"Listen, lady! I am not going anywhere with you. I do not know who you are and I…" I raise my palm up in order to shut her up. I step closer to her.

"No, you listen. I am not interested in wasting my time arguing with my husband's ex paid whore on the street. Like I have already stated, you and I have many things to take care of and I am a very impatient woman. If you make the wrong decision and do not get into that Suburban, I am going to ruin your fucking life. Do you understand what I am saying, Hillary?" I snarl at her.

Once again, she looks at the vehicle and tears fill her eyes. I am sure she never imagined a day like this would ever come.

"No one is going to hurt you, Hillary. There is another woman inside that SUV that would also like to speak with you and I guarantee your safety. Now suck up those tears and get your ass in."

The bitch still does not move an inch. I know she must be terrified and I know that I do not give a fuck. I am two seconds from grabbing her arm and pushing her skinny ass inside the SUV.

"No. I am not going anywhere with you and in case you do not know, this is kidnapping! I am seconds from screaming my head off!"

"I will make this easy on you. I have interesting medical records on you from a hospital in Seattle, not to mention every document, contract, and receipt from your time as my husband's paid whore. I cannot leave out several graphic and disgusting pictures of you with my husband's dick up your ass. Either get inside and spend some time with me in a lovely hotel penthouse or watch me throw gasoline and a match on your happy little life. If you think that I am fucking around with you, know I can cause you a lot more pain than my husband did when he broke your pitiful little arm."

With those words hanging over her head, and tears falling from Hillary Declan's eyes, she gets inside the Suburban for the quiet ride to my hotel.

I toss my sunglasses on a table and offer our guest a drink, which she declines. Allison gestures for us all to enter the suite's dining area and asks Mrs. Declan to take a seat at the table. I sit so close to the woman that I can practically hear her heart beating out of her chest. Across from us is Allison and Patricia, the public notary. Luke and Tom are standing silently in the background and serve more as a scare tactic. I sit in my chair so that my entire body is facing Hillary Declan. Allison places several large manila folders on the table and begins to talk.

"Hillary, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Allison Kendall and I am an attorney for Mrs. Anastasia Grey. Would you appreciate refreshment before we proceed?" Allison asks smiling.

The woman takes in everyone in the room and quietly declines Allison's offer as she did mine. She opens her own bottled water and takes a large sip.

"Beside me is Mrs. Patricia Hudson, who is a public notary…"

Hillary Declan looks across the table at Allison and Patricia; her panic rolling off in waves as she looks around the room for a way to escape.

"Why am I here? A lawyer…public notary? I want out of here now and I want a lawyer for whatever you people…" her voice is a high-pitched squeak and she begins to get up from her chair.

I sweetly smile at her, patting her hand as a gesture of reassurance when Luke steps between us and places a flash drive directly in front of Hillary Declan. Her eyes dart to me and I point at it with my chin. Since she was Christian's sub long before I ever knew, there is not any actual video evidence of the two and the drive is blank. However, Mrs. Declan does not know this.

"Mrs. Declan, please sit back down and make yourself comfortable. I promise you have no reason to be alarmed and no one in this room wants to harm you. Nevertheless, I do want to direct your attention to the computer flash drive before you. It shows you in several disreputable situations that I am positive you would rather keep secret from your husband and family," I say in a forthright manner.

We once again watch her already fair skin pale further and she sinks back down on the chair.

"What do you want from me?" She says quietly and is pretending to act as though I do not exist.

Allison Kendall takes a document from one of the folders and slides it across the table to Hillary.

"That is a document I know you are quite familiar with. It is a non-disclosure agreement concerning all and every moment of this evening. Sign it at the bottom where I have marked with an X." Allison is not asking her, but is telling her to sign it and she hands her a pen. We all watch her sign her name hurriedly and then lay her head in her hands.

"That's settled and now we can begin." Allison pulls out several more documents.

"Hillary, we know that on January 13th, 2013 you were taken to Swedish Medical Center in Seattle, Washington with a fractured arm that required surgery to repair it. I note that the repair called for two rods to be placed in your arm as well. Is this information correct?" Allison Kendall's voice is like a shard of ice and I see a twinge of disgust in her eyes.

Hillary Declan finally acknowledges me as she turns to me with a face of confusion; her expression is one that is beginning to crawl with realization. Looking back at Allison's impassive face, she nods at her.

"No, Hillary. A simple nod of the head is not sufficient. Will state your answer aloud for me?"

"Yes, all of that is true."

"Thank you. Now explain to us how your arm was broken and give a detailed and truthful explanation." Christian's former sub blanches at Allison's order and takes several deep breaths before she answers and looks at me again.

"Mrs. Grey, I don't want to…" she begins to say and I hold up my hand to stop her.

"You're not a stupid woman, Hillary, and you know why I am here and what I am aware of. Don't feel uncomfortable describing the BDSM relationship that you had with my husband."

She swallows hard and looks humiliated. There is no doubt that she is unaware of what we all think of her.

"My arm was broken…" She starts and then begins to weep. "My arm was broken while I was suspended from the ceiling," she whispers.

Allison would not settle for her vague answer and shakes her head. "No, Hillary. Describe what suspension means, the situation you were in that led to you being suspended from the ceiling, as well as who suspended you from the ceiling. Tell us where this occurred, why it occurred, and who suspended you from the ceiling. Leave no stone unturned."

Allison Kendall is quite scary and I am pleased that Katherine chose her law firm for me.

Hillary exhales deeply and tears stream down her face. "My arm was broken during a BDSM scene where I was in full suspension from the ceiling. In the scene, I was fully suspended vertically by chains but I was wearing suspension cuffs. During, during…" She quickly glances at me with guilty mortification. "I was having sex as I was suspended and somehow I either turned my arm or the chains were pulled from the… motion and we heard my arm snap. I was having a scene with Mr. Grey, umm, Christian Grey and it was Mr. Grey who suspended me at a condominium in Seattle."

"Did Christian Grey take you to the hospital?" Allison asks.

Hillary Declan shakes her head. "No, it was the man who would drive Mr. Grey around. I think he was some sort of bodyguard."

Allison shows Hillary Declan a picture of Jason Taylor. "Is this the man who took you to the hospital?"

"Umm…Yeah, that is the one, the man, I mean. He also picked me up and drove me to the condo once I was discharged from the hospital."

"Hillary, did Mr. Grey ever visit you during your hospital stay? Did he ever call you or send you flowers, contact you in any way?" Allison continues.

Hillary Declan wipes the tears from her cheeks. "Never, not once."

Suddenly, curiosity gets the best of me. Taylor could not have driven this woman around Seattle the entire time she was out there. She did have the Audi that Christian bought her, but who showed her around Seattle enough that she was able to drive it around on her own?

"Excuse me, Allison; I just wanted to ask Mrs. Declan something. Do you recall anyone, other than the man in the picture that drove you around Seattle? I am aware Christian bought you an Audi and I am curious as to how you learned to get around, considering how large of a city Seattle is."

Mrs. Hillary Declan, eyes centered on the table, and brows furrowed, is visibly concentrating on my question.

"Mrs. Grey…The man in the picture did not pick me up at the airport nor did he deliver the Audi. That man was quite younger. This younger man took me to some salon several times and to Neiman Marcus. I did have the Audi, but when I kept getting lost, I just quit driving it," she says.

My intuition was right-another security member knows.

"Can you remember enough about this younger man to describe his physical appearance?"

She scrunches up her nose a bit while she tries to remember.

"Eh…I would say early thirties, dark hair, as in practically black, built like the guys in this room" She motions toward Luke and Tom.

I knew it. Reynolds. I want so badly to turn to Luke and say something yet I know that I cannot. Fucking Reynolds.

"Well, what did you do with the Audi when you left Seattle?" I ask.

"I left it right where it was and took a cab to the airport."

I just nod my head and turn around in my chair to face Allison.

My face is completely blank and instead of having a desire to beat this woman's head into the table, all I feel is indifference. Even though I had a wild guess as to how her I arm was broken, I admit that hearing the details made me feel like running to the bathroom and throwing up my lunch. My feelings did not stem from pains of Christian's stinging betrayal; they had grown from a place of disgusted indifference. Being in love with my husband had slowly become an anamnesis. Sitting beside his former sub and listening to her describe the actual man that I was married to was not pleasant, but it was not torturing me with feelings of inadequacy deep into my soul.

Allison's eyes ask if I can stand for her to continue and I barely move my head to assent.

"Hillary, did you purchase this condominium you mentioned? If not, tell us who did and whose name is on the deed," Allison asks.

"Christian Grey bought the condo for me while I was living in Seattle. The deed was in my name. I assume that I still own it."

Despite knowing the answer, Allison taps her pen on the table thoughtfully. "You said, while you were living in Seattle? Are you not originally from Seattle? If not, where are you from?"

Hillary Declan starts to chew on her lips. "I am from here; Brooklyn, New York, I mean."

"Hmm…" Allison plays dumb and taps the pen against her lips. "So explain how and why you ended up in Seattle and how long you lived there? Do not forget specific details either."

"I, I moved to Seattle after meeting Christian Grey at a BDSM club in Manhattan. We…We did a scene the night that we met and Mr. Grey requested a meeting with me the next day with an offer to contract me as his submissive. He knew that I lived here and the contract stated that he would relocate me and pay for all my expenses along with purchasing me a place to live. He bought me a condominium close to a penthouse that had been his previous home." Hillary Declan's shoulders shake as she attempts not to cry. She turns to me and is using both hands to wipe tears from her eyes. "I am so sorry, M, Mrs. G, Grey, I…"

"Just continue, Hillary. I am fine, I assure you." I say. I may be fine but I am looking back at that year, that month, and digging through my mind to remember when Christian was in New York. I shake the thought away. It is just beating my own self up.

"We, we had scenes at that penthouse and at my condominium after he converted a room into a playroom as he referred to it. I left New York for Seattle a week or so after that meeting. I believe it was in November. Our contract was for three months, which was not extended after my injury. I never saw Mr. Grey again after the night my arm was broken. After I was discharged from the hospital, I had a private nurse stay at my home. I knew that Mr. Grey must have arranged that. Oh, this is stupid, but he also had someone go and feed my cat. I left Seattle the second I could travel and I have never put a toe into Washington State since 2013. Not even to sell the condo when I know how much money I could get for it."

Hillary Declan's story is a rush of what feels like a confessional. No one in the room moves or says a word and it is not from surprise, it is only to make this woman feel uncomfortable.

Allison Kendall tosses her pen on the table, leans back in her chair, and crosses her arms.

"Thank you for filling in those missing blanks, Mrs. Declan. Although we possess the actual contract between you and Christian Grey, we wanted additional and specific details. When did you begin to take part in the lifestyle of BDSM?"

"I was eighteen. A freshman in college." she murmurs.

"How many Dominants have you had? Be clear and tell me if they were before or after Christian Grey."

"What is that to you?" Hillary Declan asks haughtily.

"Let us remain civil, Mrs. Declan. Please just answer the question," Allison replies.

Hillary Declan appears ready to stand and stomp her little feet at Allison. I note Tom had to turn his back to us to hide his laughter.

"I had three Doms that I did have a contract with prior to Christian Grey. Due to my experience with Christian Grey, I never took part in BDSM again."

Allison gives another document to Hillary who quickly scans it with wide eyes. Allison smirks at her reaction.

"Are those men listed on that document your previous Dominants?"

"Yeah. Yes, they are," she replies slowly. "How did you find this out? What is this really about?"

"Would you please read their names aloud along with the dates you were contracted with them?"

Hillary looks terrified by Allison's request. "I, I, I cannot do that. I signed an NDA with each of them." She sputters.

Allison leans on the table with a play or pay expression on her face. "You also signed an NDA with us. Those men will not know you have broken your NDA's with them. Now please do as I requested."

Feeling like laughing at Allison Kendall's intimidating personality, the moment Christian's former sub starts rambling about former Dom's, I zone out. I am getting antsy because I am more interested in the two things I am going to do. More than anything I am going to enjoy showing her a few of the pictures I took from Christian's safe. The situation with Christian's missing sub files and those so-called insurance photos has become an endless source of enjoyment for Luke and me. From what he has told me, Christian is so paranoid at this point that he would probably consider hiring the FBI to come in to figure out who managed to get into Escala and get the goods on him. Kudos to Luke for being so intelligent and knowing how to get us in and out of there undetectable. I am also very pleased with myself for remembering to wipe my fingerprints off that cabinets handle along with the safe combination. I have discovered that watching highly intelligent men run around in circles trying to figure shit out is a highly enjoyable pastime.

I am torn from my thoughts when I hear Allison repeatedly saying my name. Quickly remembering that I get to have some fun, I open up my MacBook and turn my attention to Mrs. Pixie Cut.

"Hillary, we know that my husband opened a bank account for you and deposited nearly three hundred grand into it. We are also aware that it was never closed and that you are still withdrawing funds from it."

I believe this woman just stopped breathing.

"Luckily for you, I also have an account at the very same bank. Isn't that a crazy coincidence? Do you bank online Hillary?" I ask, smiling ever so sweetly.

"Yes," she replies, looking shocked.

I click on a bookmark that I created especially for Mrs. Declan. It goes to the banks website. I lock eyes with her and feel like a cauldron bubbling with anger.

"Good, then you're familiar with all the things you can do online when it comes to banking?"

Hillary's blue eyes have hardened with what I assume to be suspicion. "I suppose. My husband handles most of our online banking." Ah, her tone is defensive and that means she knows what she is about to do.

"You mean your husband handles the online banking account that the two of you have." I bite back. She sits still as stone and does not answer me.

"Since we are aware of every transaction you have made with the account my husband set up for you, we also discovered that you handle it primarily online. To me that screams that you are familiar with what you can do while banking online."

The woman stays mum and I smile brighter as I push the MacBook to her.

"Since you are not blind, you can see this is the banks website. I need you to log into your account," I tell her. I have thrown my fake smile down the garbage disposal and my words are brusque.

Hillary Declan's face begins to redden and we are all aware it is from anger. She has purchased too many expensive items with the money in that account. She sure as fuck does not want to lose it. She raises her chin in defiance and everyone in the room waits to see what happens next.

I get in her face with eyes of concrete disgust.

"As an ex paid whore you are aware that disobeying an order results in a punishment. I may not be your Dom... I can escort you to a place where it would just be you…and me."

Pixie Cut's eyes widen with fear and frantically looks around the room for someone to offer her some aid.

"You do not really believe anyone in this room gives a fuck if I drag you into the next room by your hair, do you?" I hiss. Despite that I am only fucking with her to do as I say, I am aware that I could drag her in the next suite and beat the dog shit out of her and no one would notice.

Allison catches my eye and mouths the word "wow" and I smirk at her.

"Mrs. Declan, look at me." I instruct her and she quickly complies. "I am giving you another chance to do as I told you. Log into your fucking account. Now."

Within the span of a minute, the laptop is back in front of me and I have transferred every cent of the nearly two hundred grand into the account that my new IT head, Craig, created for me yesterday. Logging out of her now empty 'I am a paid whore bank account', I close the MacBook and hold my hand in Allison's direction. She silently reaches over the table to give me one of the manila folders.

Hillary Declan is staring down in her lap. Losing that money must have hit her hard.

"For fucks sake, Hillary, get over it! It was just a little money! You are looking down all submissive like when there is no one in this room with a desire to ram a ten inch dildo up your ass." My words cause the room to erupt in laughter. However, our dear Hillary is not amused. Her face is once again blood red and the veins in her neck are actually showing. She has started twisting her now empty water bottle.

I take a document from the folder, place it in front of her, and hold out a pen. Mrs. Declan does not look at the document nor does she take the pen. I am really getting sick of looking at this bitch. I told them I would not hit her. I told them I would not hit her. I told them I would not hit her.

"Read the document on the table," I tell her irritably.

She finally scans the paper and then picks it up, reading it once more, scrutinizing its every word. Hillary looks at me and opens her mouth to say something but I cock my eyebrow and her mouth snaps closed.

"Hillary, do you know what that is?" Allison Kendall asks her, sounding as annoyed as I feel.

"Of course, I do. It is the deed to the Seattle condominium that I own," Hillary says nonchalantly.

I scoff at her and remain in her personal space. "The one you own but are too afraid to enter Washington State and sell?" I ask which obviously embarrasses Hillary.

"You are selling me the condominium, Mrs. Declan. Take this pen and sign on the dotted line. Do not think I am asking."

The word selling sets off a light in Hillary Declan's eyes. Evidently she believes she is about to come into a chunk of my change. Stupid, stupid whore.

"Sell it? Well, I do not care to unload it since I will never use it. How much are you paying me for it? That was a million dollar condo and now it must be wor…"

Rolling my eyes, I laugh and call for Luke. I hold out my hand to him. Luke remains standing behind us. The room can hear the clinking of coins as Luke pulls them from his pants pocket. He places the coins in my hand. Pixie cut's face is full of confusion.

It is when I toss four quarters in front of her that her expression changes. She watches them bounce on the table incredulously.

"A dollar? You think that I am selling you a million dollar condominium for a damn dollar? You people think that since I have spent way too much of my time telling this woman the truth about her husband that I am going to…"

Luke's hand on my shoulder is the only thing keeping me from punching her in the face. I am sure my nostrils are flaring when I jump to my feet and slam both of my hands on the table.

"You have not told me shit about my husband that I do not already know you skank ass whore! You are selling me that condominium for a dollar and we all know that is much more than your wore out ass is worth! I bet that when your pathetic husband fucks you he thinks he is throwing a hot dog down a goddamn hall! Now pick up that fucking pen and sign it!" I scream at her venomously and cause her to jump. Luke squeezes my shoulder softly.

" .Hillary." I am so fucking enraged that I can barely hear Allison telling her to sign. Just the very second my anger begins to dampen; my ears hear Hillary's angry retorts. How fucking dare this bitch? My fury-fueled determination has set me aloft.

I point my finger inches from her face. "Are you aware of what we have on you? One flick of my wrist and your world will never be the same. I strongly suggest you sign the god damn paper," I tell her in my now hoarse voice.

Hillary Declan then causes all of us to look at her in amazement. "You people do not have shit on me!" she yells at us.

We are honestly too bemused to speak. Have we not already proven we know so much about her that we even know what time she takes a shit? I suppose that now she has given me no choice. I was hoping I would be able to do this all along. I pick the fucking folder up and place six photographs of her on the table. They look worse than the originals because Kate had them enlarged. I am physically and mentally exhausted from this entire day. Sitting back down, I just stare into space and allow the silence of the room envelope me.

My reverie is split apart with the sound of Hillary Declan's convulsive sobbing as she stares at herself in each damning photograph. The fact that no one in the room cares to comfort her warms my heart. I pick up the pen and hold it out for her. She is crying hard enough that she cannot see clearly and misses the outstretched pen when she attempts to take it. Placing the pen in her hand, I lean close to her ear and whisper, "Suck it up, and sign it."

After several minutes of calming herself down, Hillary Declan finally signs the deed and I am the new owner of a million dollar condominium in downtown Seattle. Without doubting whether Hillary would sign the deed, I hired a construction company to gut the place and to start this morning. My imagination drifts to when Christian attempts to take Miss Sams there and finds it being torn apart and then losing his shit. I also know it will add fuel to the mystery person who got into Escala.

Since I am done with how I wanted to torture Christian's whore, Allison Kendall resumes control of the room to introduce something that Mrs. Declan will not like at all.

"Are you okay, Hillary? It may appear that we are here to coerce you into doing things against your will, but that is not our goal. We are only here to right the many wrongs that you were involved with. I sincerely mean that and apologize for your distress," Allison tells her in a calm and quiet manner.

Hillary stares at her with a tear stained and blotchy face. "I would be better if I was not here. My husband expected me home two hours ago and is probably going out of his mind. I need to go home."

Her words stir something inside of me that surely must replicate the feeling of the blast on Hiroshima.

"Did your whore ass ever consider that I was expecting Christian to come home while you were his sub? I have read the contract you signed and you knew he was married. You fucked my husband knowing he was a married man and due to the fact you are without morals, you did not give a shit. Your lack of morals and sick lifestyle allowed you to be Christian's rent a whore and receive what he provided you monetarily. You accepted an Audi, jewelry, expensive clothing, money, and a place to live in order for Christian Grey to fuck and beat you senseless. That makes you a well-compensated whore. You know that don't you. The only thing that separates you from a common streetwalker is that you derive sick pleasure in being beat until your arm is broken. You sicken everyone in this room and if you believe we give two fucks about your husband worrying about you or that you even have a husband, you are a fucking idiot," I scream at her as I think of the cold disregard that she had for my marriage.

I would never lay full blame at the feet of these women, but in the end, they were all aware Christian was married and signed contracts where he outlined that fact very clearly. I do not wish death on any of Christian's subs, but I will dish out as much damage I possibly can. Unfortunately, for Hillary Wilkins Declan, she will feel that damage. Once my unexpected tirade is over, we are all aware that Craig, the brainiac I hired as my IT guy has stopped the recording we have made of our illuminating time with this bitch. We cannot have any visual proof since our masterpiece is a step from the boundaries of the law.

My impassioned description of Hillary Declan has once again reduced her to tears. Allison ignores her and begins leading her down our path. I remain silent. This act belongs to Allison Kendall.

"Mrs. Declan, have you ever heard of an affidavit?"

She stares at Allison Kendall blankly, her face frozen. Gasping, Hillary Declan grabs the arms of her chair and slides it backward. From the corner of my eye, I watch Luke place his foot against the leg of the chair to keep it from moving any further.

"I know what an affidavit is…Why are you asking?" Her words are barely audible and her face a ghastly white.

Allison once again ignores her and holds up another document for Hillary Declan to see.

"You may be familiar with the term, but I still want to explain exactly what an affidavit means and what they are used for." Allison's tone is curt, professional and her body language has changed in order to intimidate the woman before her.

"Mrs. Declan, an affidavit is a written sworn statement of fact voluntarily made by an affiant, which you are. An affiant is a person who has the intellectual capacity to take an oath and has knowledge of the facts that could be in dispute by another. Considering that you have truthful and firsthand knowledge of the events that took place on January 13, 2013, you are going to write down every detail that you have already described to us. In order for an affidavit to be valid and legal, before you begin with your written statement, you will have to take an oath affirming your statements are true. That is why Mrs. Patricia Hudson is present. Any public officer who is authorized by law to administer an oath, such as a public notary, may administer the oath. As Mrs. Hudson is a public notary, she will be administering your oath."

Hillary Declan's unease has turned into hysterics as she realizes what we want from her. Her back is in a corner and she knows it. I notice that she is digging her fingernails into her arms.

"W, why are you doing this to me…What good…What is this for?" She stammers, turning to me, although my eyes are on the far wall.

"Hillary, Hillary!" Allison snaps yanking Hillary Declan back into the present. "We are not doing anything to you. This is about something else entirely and we hope using this affidavit will never become necessary."

"Please, Mrs. Grey! Why are you doing this to me? I am so sorry…I swear that I am so sorry!" Her chest is heaving with sobs, her words nearly incoherent. I say nothing and continue staring ahead.

"You need to calm down, Mrs. Declan and please address me and leave Mrs. Grey alone," Allison snaps.

Laying her head on the table, it takes Hillary Declan several minutes to stop weeping and raise her head to look at Allison. She sucks in a gulp of air.

"Oh, my, God…Is this for civil or criminal use? Do you actually expect me to put my face out to sue Christian Grey? You want me to press assault charges on Christian Grey? Are you crazy? She yells in a shaky voice and is scrunching her eyes tightly, dreading the answer.

"That is none of your concern," Allison replies.

Christian's ex fuck slams both of her hands on the table and we once again get a glimpse of her defiance. I catch Allison raise an eyebrow at her in amusement.

"The fuck it's not! I am out of here! Who gives a fuck if you used those pictures and that contract to get that money and condominium? That is all bullshit from my past and you can all fuck off!" She actually snarls at us, and attempts to push her chair back so she can leave. Luke's foot resolutely keeps it from moving.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Hillary Declan screams at him once she notices what he has been doing. I giggle at the smug smile Luke gives her.

I am so sick of having to sit by this woman, her bad haircut, and Danskin workout clothes. Sighing in an ever so bored fashion, I finally stand, take the remaining paper from the manila folder, and position myself directly behind our Catholic not so do gooder.

"Craig, bring it out now," I call out. Within seconds, he hands me another flash drive. This one is not blank. Luke's muscular arm reaches down and slides the MacBook in front of Hillary Declan's face and I slide the drive into the laptop.

It starts the moment we all entered the room and is full of every sick and detailed thing this woman has told us. Everyone can see her begin to tremble.

I lean down and place my mouth very close to her ear. "Would you enjoy explaining that to your husband?" I whisper and her shoulders slump.

Yanking the drive out of the computer, I cross my arms and begin to pace, but still hold that last sheet of paper.

"Hillary, you seem to have forgotten my words from earlier. I was not joking when I said that I could fuck your life up. What you just watched was how you gave me yet another way to fuck you up further. Would you like to see what I have here?" My pacing halts directly behind her and she does not answer me. Bending over, I rest one of my arms on the table and place the paper I have been holding in front of her.

"Do you see all of that, Hillary? Do you see every name on that paper? Have you noticed your in-laws names, addresses, and phone numbers? Yes, I know that your father-in-law is a well-known attorney in Manhattan and I have his firms address, too. Let us see whom else, shall we? This is your parish priest and here is that tight ass Catholic school you and your husband work at. Oh, yes, your husband."

I pause long enough for it to all sink in.

"Yes, Hillary, I can send all of those people every document I have, as well as this flash drive. Oh, let us not forget those lovely photographs that my husband took of you, the contract between you and Christian, that precious list of your soft and hard limits…anal and vaginal fisting was your only hard limit? Whoa, girl, that is impressive! But, please, do not worry that I would actually do that because I wouldn't Hillary, do you know why I will not do that to you?"

I finally get a response out of her when she shakes her head and I drape an arm around her shoulders.

"Well, I would never do that because I am absolutely positive that you are minutes from standing in front of Mrs. Hudson and taking that oath. I also know that once you swear under oath that what you write on that affidavit is truthful, you are going to write it all down. I will give you a moment to consider all of this. Take your time to make your decision, Hillary."

Allison has already pulled out the affidavit form. I also see that Mrs. Hudson has her stamp with the needed official seal in front of her. I can only say thank God that Allison Kendall's maiden name is Hudson. I would have never been able to bribe a public officer to officially seal this affidavit since Mrs. Declan is no longer in our jurisdiction. I clearly realize that I am no longer the same guileless woman I was a few months ago, but I still have morals. Making the affidavit retroactive to February of 2013 and using her previous Seattle address will be taken care once we get rid of this Mrs. Declan. However, that action does not seem immoral-it is necessary.

Standing beside Luke, my eyes dart around the room and stare at each impassive face. The men Luke has surrounded me with look hardened and as if they are protecting the President. I actually feel guilty that they had to stand for hours and deal with this bullshit. Luke promised that I had garnered their complete allegiance after they were shown what his ghost of a friend enabled us with. Looking at them, I still scoff to myself as I imagine they will also be loyal due to the lofty financial incentives I will provide them with. My own pessimistic thought makes me frown. I refuse to allow the behavior of Christian Grey skew my view on trusting other human beings and seeing the overall goodness in them. Let his mind be a fuck up. I will never allow him to cause mine to become one.

All of two minutes pass before I see Hillary Declan stand up on shaking legs and Allison Kendall and Mrs. Hudson smile and rise from their chairs. They have both been sitting for so long that I can only imagine how numb both of their ass' are.

"Hillary, did you make a decision." Allison asks her.

"It isn't as if I've got any choice in the matter," Hillary sounds both defeated and bitter.

Allison Kendall ignores yet again. "Please, come and stand beside Mrs. Hudson and she will administer you the oath. Then we can get on with you filling out the affidavit."

I watch the woman tentatively get up and glance at me sideways as she passes by. My face is completely void of expression. I do not offer a hint of animosity. Once I hear Mrs. Hudson begin to explain the consequences of taking this oath and then not being truthful, I exit the room and leave Luke to oversee the rest.

Entering my private suite, I flop on the bed and cover my face with a pillow. My entire body feels as though it has been weighed down. I feel tears rushing to the back of my eyes and I inwardly snarl at them to go away. They are not for my husband or our joke of a marriage; they are not even for that bitch in the next suite. They are for all of the bullshit I have put so many others through. Luke has offered me his entire career and possible reputation if Christian decides to ruin him. My best friend in this world is on the other side of the country lying in a hospital bed recovering from a God-awful complication to her pregnancy that could have killed her and Elliot's daughter. Plus, right at this very second, I know that Katherine is worried sick over me and what is going on here and probably being a total bitch to Elliot and everyone else around her. There is one of my attorney's in that other suite doing things that could get her disbarred and her mother possibly jailed. And to add on to all of that, I have got to walk into the home of my in-laws and tell them that I am divorcing their son, knowing what it will do to Grace and that my relationship with them will be forever changed. I will always have to lie to my father to keep him from killing Christian and I do not have a mother's arms to comfort me. Fuck, now I feel as though I am making myself a victim and that is the last thing I will ever become.

Shit, I need to talk to Dr. Swann.

Reaching for my cell, I see that I have fourteen texts from Kate and three missed calls from Christian. Not knowing if Elliot is nearby and could read any text that I send Kate, I quickly text her a very vague message that she will understand.

"All is well here. I've just left a long but productive meeting. Rest and give Emma Grace a kiss for me. I will see you soon. xoxo" I hit send.

Although I am curious as to why Christian called me three times, I do not even consider calling him back. However, I do call Dr. Swann. It is still early on the west coast and she should still be in her office. I am fortunate and my call is put straight through.

"Hello, Ana. I hope you are not calling to cancel this week's appointment." I am immediately calm once I hear her voice.

"Hello, Dr. Swann. I am not calling to cancel. I just wondered if you had a spare moment to speak with me. I seem to be having one of my self-induced moments as we call them."

"Well, you are in luck, Ana. So, what is going on with you? Your voice is giving you away," she prompts.

I stare up at the ceiling and attempt to articulate what I want to say.

"Ana, I assume this is not a social call."

"No, Dr. Swann, it is not. It is just that my life…just that my life suddenly weighs more than the Space Needle. I feel suffocated from guilt and back in the hole of being a victim of the world. I suppose I called for you to help me," I whisper.

"Ah, I see. Do you want me to help you or pull you out of that hole instead of doing it yourself?"

Her words cause me to frown from frustration. Sometimes I find this therapy to be full of shit questions for which I have no answers.

"Since you have put it like that, Dr. Swann, I guess the truth is that I wanted you to do it for me," I reply.

"I see. Now tell me what is really going on."

Pinching the bridge of my nose, the dam of truth blows wide open and I recount the day's events, from the fucked up dream about Christian to my thoughts that led me to call her. Dr. Swann gives me an hour of her time, questioning my every thought, emotion, and the honest motive for being in Brooklyn, New York. My mind seems as though I cleaned it up by talking things over with my psychiatrist, although lingering questions still hover in the back of my mind. All of this shit has exhausted me and after closing my eyes, I fall asleep.

Craig knocking on the door awakens me. He is carrying a black case like the one I used to carry my manuscripts in. I move out of his way so he can enter the room. Nodding at me, he begins to take out several large padded envelopes that have already been addressed and lays them on the bed. Despite knowing how thorough and meticulous Craig is, I count each envelope to make sure we are not missing one.

"Don't take this as an insult, Craig, but each one contains everything as requested?"

"Yes," he replies and smiles at me. An infectious smile that I cannot help but return.

"And you erased the hotel's CCTV footage of when we came in with her?" I have had enough of saying her name.

"Yup. It was the first thing that I did once you all entered the suite and I will wipe it out again as she exits the hotel."

I nod my approval, gazing at one certain envelope and without looking at him, I ask Craig to send Tom in. Reaching down, I pick up the envelope and wait for Tom. I have to agree with Kate when she says that Tom is the best-looking man on the security team. Around six foot three and nothing but muscle, with his wavy brown hair and green eyes; it is enough to make the panties of a nun wet. Tom steps in the room and I push away my dirty little thoughts.

"Craig said you wanted to see me, Ana," he says.

"Yeah, I did, Tom. Luke said that you're taking her home."

I receive a subtle nod and notice that he is staring at the envelope in my hands.

"I have a favor to ask you. I know you are dropping each of these in the mail after you take her home, but I have a concern about this certain envelope," I tell him.

He looks at whom the envelope is addressed to and gives me a knowing look.

"The husband?"

I nod. "It just occurred to me that if it is sent to their home address she might intercept it in the mail," I reply.

Tom's lips curl into a small smile. "I had already thought about that, Ana," he says and I have to laugh at my own ignorance.

"We aren't leaving until tomorrow evening and I know you were one of the guys who came out here to stake out their routine. I assume the husband is on his own some time during the day?"

"Yes, he is, several times a day. He watches the kids while she goes to work out and vice versa."

"Okay, that's very good to hear. I want you to do something for me before we leave town." I say and he smiles at me again.

"You want me to hand deliver it to him."

I flush as I return his grin.

'Yes."

"No problem at all, Ana. I have your back," he tells me.

"Thank you, Tom. How much longer until they are done?"

"They already are. I was getting ready to take her home when Craig told me that you wanted to see me."

Rubbing my forehead, I exhale a deeply held breath.

"We got it all, right, Tom? I mean, we have everything that we need. Did I forget anything?" I ask.

Tom looks at me sympathetically, as if he senses I am about to break in half.

"Yes, Ana, we have it all. You didn't miss a thing and you never have to deal with her again." he replies.

Suddenly, I burst into laughter. "Can you fathom that she actually believes I wouldn't send this shit to fuck her life up?"

He chuckles and my eyes are glued to the way his fingers are scratching his chin. "To be honest, fuck no, I cannot understand that. She is in for one hell of a shit storm."

We continue to laugh and I head to the window and stare at a street lamp.

"Just lay the envelope to Mr. Declan on the dresser and you can give it to him tomorrow and mail the others after you drop her off."

"I'll get the skank out of here now."

"Oh, and Tom, even if she demands for you to drop her off anywhere other than her house, ignore her. Dump her directly in front of her house. I am enjoying just the thought of how she is going to explain her whereabouts for all these hours."

"It will be my pleasure. Ana, are you okay?" He asks.

I turn my head halfway around so he can see my profile.

"Don't worry, Tom. I am okay. Just tired and I want that whore out of here."

"Don't sweat it, consider her already gone."

He leaves the room and closes the door behind him. It is late. I am exhausted. My mind is racing at the same time that it has closed itself off. I am staring up at the star filled sky when my phone beeps from an incoming text message.

Kate.

"Big guy is asleep. Spill it."

I cannot help but grin or shake my sudden need to be in Kate's presence. My fingers slide over the keys as I reply to her in a short but concise message that I know will make her smile.

"2 down. 2 to go."

Then I hit send.

_A/N- Forgive all mistakes and I apologize if it took you several days to finish the chapter. Since we're nearing the end, the next chapters will probably be my usual long ones, but I assure you, this is my only novella.-Anna_


	23. Chapter 23

All rights to the characters and story of FSoG belong to E. L. James

_(You all know me by now &amp; that means you should not need a warning about the length of this chapter)_

_**To Trust, or Not To Trust, That Is The Question:**_

_**Thursday, August 27**__**th**__**, 2015**_

_Seattle, Washington_

There are three things that I am certain about.

I have eyes.

My eyes are blue.

My blue eyes are wide as saucers.

I feel spellbound. Perhaps this is my own personal fairy tale and I should be sleeping throughout the ages, as Maleficent had wanted Sleeping Beauty to do. My mind is stuck on pause and while I see her mouth moving, I lack all ability to process her words.

Call me naïve, call me jaded, call me another person who believed no one would cross Christian Grey; yes, if you do call me those things, you would be correct. It takes a few minutes to realize this woman is not here to wave a magic wand and turn my pumpkin carriage of a life into a crystal slipper. I gulp down the amazement I feel as I watch the person who dared to leave the reservation and broke the golden paper that Christian Grey lives by- an NDA to protect his secret world. It has been broken, torn in half, and thrown in a shredder. My shredder to be exact.

Gail Jones Taylor sat beside me on the navy blue tufted sofa that rests in front of the huge glass wall on the far end of my office. The longer we held each other, the harder we cried, and I felt the dread of letting her go. I have no idea how long we sat there and talked.

Gail comforted, apologized, commiserated, and confessed. I questioned, answered, evaded, and dawdled on the edge of lying.

If I was not touching Gail or unable to smell her favorite Victoria's Secret spray, Love Spell, I would not believe she was here. I would have never expected her to admit the things she has. Telling me things I already knew, things that I suspected, and shaken a certain trust I had. This trust has been crushed; in a manner of destruction that only an earthquake could rival.

Around an hour prior, after a long afternoon of boring department head meetings at Grey Publishing, Hannah calls due to an unexpected situation.

"Mrs. Grey, there is a Mrs. Gail Taylor down in the lobby. She is quite insistent with her request to see you. What should I tell reception?"

It is only when I glance at both my work and cell phone that an antenna of curiosity and suspicion is rapidly in the air. Gail could have easily called me. Months of playing super spy now has me questioning why Gail would want to see me. I feel horrible at the thought.

"Tell those idiots to send her up immediately and then add her name to the list of people to be granted access to this floor," I say in frustration. "Yes, Mrs. Grey." Hannah quickly replies.

I grab my stick of cherry Chap Stick, smear some across my lips, and try to grasp a scenario that could have possibly brought Gail to my office.

I can feel Luke's gaze on me. I deeply sigh when I do acknowledge him. Luke has lowered the newspaper he was reading and looks as if I owe him an immediate explanation. Better yet, as though I have an obligation to fill him in on my unexpected visitor.

I dismissively shake my head. "What?" I snap at him.

A little over a month ago, I was graced with the unexplained presence of a female CPO named Prescott. For some ungodly reason this woman was placed to work alongside Luke and I have had to endure Prescott following me inside restrooms. I have beaten my head against Luke's eight pack for an answer, although he claims that he does not know. What I know is that Luke has been so overprotective of me this past month that I feel suffocated. Prescott, with a body to rival any wrestler in the WWF has only added to that sense of being suffocated. There are times my mind flits to the fact Luke attends Taylor's daily security briefings and that as my personal CPO, his confusion over Prescott's appearance screams bullshit. Why I have not paid attention to knowing that is also bullshit. I would wonder why Kate's mind would not have noticed it but she is dealing with a newborn and a tad bit of the baby blues.

I have also demanded Christian tell me why he added Prescott to my security, but he remains his typical elusive self. I assume his refusal to tell me the truth is entangled in anger. The only time we are physically around one another is around his family and to attend a social event he is obligated to attend. These encounters are becoming increasingly strained and uncomfortable. Despite the obvious, yet never spoken aloud, our separation has seemingly been accepted within his family and with my dad. I have often caught Christian staring at me as if I am a steak and he is a starving man. On a few occasions, he has surprised me by taking my hand as we ride in the back of the SUV. Christian continues to text, email, and calls me regularly throughout the day; yet we never mention the elephant in between us. I am giving him what he must surely want and he is fucking with my head appearing that he does not want to let go. Lately Christian's behavior has left me confused and uncertain, although I cannot pin point what I am uncertain about.

Luke exhales deeply. "Who is on her way up to see you?" He asks.

I lower my voice in case Prescott can hear me from her location outside my office door. I do not like her nor do I trust her. A lack of trust has insidiously made its way into my life lately.

"Gail." I whisper in a conspiratorial voice. Luke looks genuinely surprised and if my spidey sense is correct, he is displeased.

"Do you know why she's here? Have you spoken to Gail since she moved to Escala?" He asks me in a voice that can best be described as weird.

"No, I do not know why she is here," I am answering his question despite feeling how odd he sounded, "and no I have not talked to Gail in months."

Before he responds, I hear Prescott giving Gail a hard time outside of my office. Going to the door in a flash, I swing it open, glaring at Prescott.

"This is Gail Taylor and she can see me anytime. Never question her again." I bite at Prescott maliciously. Fucking Jolly Green Giant of a woman.

"Yes, Mrs. Grey." If I bothered Prescott by publically chastising her, her stupid, impassive expression does not allow it to show.

I turn to Gail and her appearance gives me a moment of pause. She is dressed casually even though it is a weekday and I know how anal Christian is about the appearance of his employees. Gail is wearing beige slacks and a black and beige short sleeve top. Her off-white sandals match her oversized purse. I am giddy with happiness just by her presence. I have missed this woman being a part of my life. Then I notice Gail's tentative and barely noticeable tremulous smile that she is giving me.

"Oh, Gail, come in! It is so good to see you. I have missed you so much!" I say while throwing my arms around her after she is in my office and I have closed the door.

Gail pats me on the back in a way that one does a child. My spidey sense is not needed to realize Gail is not acting like herself. It is then I wonder why she is not at work over at the penthouse.

"It is good to see you, Mrs.… I mean, Ana. You have no idea how I have missed you," She says quietly.

I release her from our embrace and Gail glances around the office and spots Luke. She does not attempt to hide the animosity I recognize in her eyes. This confuses me since Gail always adored Luke. What in the hell is going on?

"Ana, may we speak privately?" She begins briskly, "I need to discuss some things with you."

I am facing Luke who is visibly unhappy by her request. I raise my eyebrow as a warning and he strides to my office door and stops to acknowledge Gail.

"How are you, Gail?" He asks.

Surprisingly, Gail nods at him curtly. "I am fine." She does not bother to look at him. I watch Luke retreat from my office and shut the door behind him. The door to my confusion remains wide open.

I motion toward my sofa. "Let's sit here, Gail. I am so glad you came by and I apologize reception gave you a hard time. You should have called and I would have told them to allow you up here."

We sit and Gail places her bag on the floor. "I really do not think a phone call would be a good idea right now -I wanted to speak with you in person," She says with a sigh.

Gail's face is simultaneously sad and determined. I am well aware of what Gail has been a witness to for the past two months, yet I cannot give that away. I have zero doubt that is why she is here, even if I would never expect her to rat Christian out. What she has said about not trusting making phone calls surprises me. What in the fuck is that about?

"Would you like something to drink, Gail?" I murmur, but Gail cuts me off.

"No, Ana, I am fine. Well, I am trying to be fine. Ana, what I want to talk about is private and that is why I wanted Sawyer to leave."

Oh, shit. I am sure I have a small and weird smile on my face.

"Oh? That is fine, Gail. Are you all right? You look terribly upset…Nothing has happened to Jason has it?" I ask despite the fact I could not care less if something happened to Jason Taylor.

Her eyes beginning to water, Gail grabs my hands and shaking her head.

"I assume Jason is fine. We have not spoken in days. That will be explained after I say…rather tell you…tell you something." Gail's voice breaks and I have a sneaking suspicion of an oncoming eighteen-wheeler.

"Gail, what is it? What is wrong? You are actually scaring me."

I always knew the choices Jason had made would affect Gail. I never suspected how deep that impact would be and Gail's demeanor is scaring me.

"Ana, you know that I would never lie or deceive you, don't you? She asks breathlessly.

"Yes, God, yes, I know that!" I whisper.

"On the first evening back at Escala, I found things were not as we all believed. My eyes were opened, I was shocked more than I have been in my life, and I have lain in bed at night weeping, trying to figure out what to do." I see the underlying pain in her eyes and I want to stab Christian Grey in his aorta.

Tears begin pouring from Gail's eyes and I use my free hand to wipe them away. Taking a bit of time to recover herself, Gail looks in my eyes and I fall back into the plush sofa.

I would do anything to avoid this conversation. I would do anything to keep from watching Gail struggle with her own betrayal. She has been my trusted friend, a sensible mentor in the hardship of everyday life, and the mother that Carla will never be. However, life is not a chalkboard and I am not an eraser who can wipe away Jason Taylor's betrayals. Christian's betrayals are like wet blood he smeared all over Taylor, although Taylor is responsible for what he chose to do next.

I cannot find an adequate question or comment regarding her statement. If I had a straw to grasp that would aid in sorting out this mess, then I would grab it. Nevertheless, there is not one, I remain silent, and Gail continues.

"Please forgive me for asking you a question…a personal question. May I ask you one?" She whispers.

I shake my head no, tuck my hair behind my ear, and whisper as Gail had. "No, I do not mind."

Her eyes shine with fear and disappointment. Regret flickers through and looks like the regret in a mother's eyes when her child's heart is a breath from being devastated.

"I know Mr. Grey's father forced him to leave the house. I do not doubt you wanted me to be with Jason. What I want to ask is if the situation with Elena Lincoln is the real reason you have not taken Mr. Grey back?"

Gail's eyes settle on my left ring finger and seem to be examining it, the meaning behind it, perhaps knowing it does not belong there.

Sighing, I look away. Feeling stuck between the truth and my unwarranted feelings of not trusting Gail, I do not answer. She nods, knowing that I answered her question with my silence.

"Ana…I think your silence answered my question. Regardless, I am compelled to inform you of recent events. This is not easy to say and it sure as hell will not be easy for you to hear," She replies in a shaky voice. Oh, shit. Christian knows.

"Gail, stop…Are you about to break Christian's NDA?" I know that if I look as panicked as I sound then I am fucked.

My heart is thumping in my throat. I know what Gail is about to tell me. I also know she could be fucking up with her husband. Sighing, Gail reaches into her oversized bag, pulls out a rather worn out piece of paper, and hands it to me. It is the NDA Christian had her sign a decade ago. Signed on a day long ago, so long ago…so many wet Seattle nights have passed by.

"Do you mean this non disclosure agreement? She asks in a brutal ton of voice.

"Yes," It is the only word that I am able to croak out.

Gail takes the paper and tears it in half. I am as still as a cat perched in front of a window on a warm summer day.

Holy fuck.

"Do you have a shredder, Ana? It is time to shred this piece of shit." Gail says harshly.

I have never heard Gail swear. Never heard her speak so boldly or so freely.

I hesitate for a moment. "Yes, of course, but right now I want an answer…"

Standing, Gail shakes her head and finds the shredder. Within a moment, her long-standing promise to Christian Grey is nothing but bits of paper. She returns, takes both of my hands, and offers me a small smile. I am blown away by her behavior and her strength. Oh, Gail.

She slowly shakes her head that reflects a mourner at a funeral. "I do not want to hurt you. Nevertheless, as a woman and as a wife…especially as a woman who feels protective of you and wants you happy, I have to do this," she states slowly, "Forgive me, but I have to."

I have no clue how to speak. I am holding my breath and a simple nod is all I can manage. Gail exhales loudly before beginning to speak. I feel as if she is about to lift the stage curtain on the play that is my life.

"You may recall the day I went to Escala was a Friday. As you also remember, prior to marrying Jason, I would leave for the weekend, although after we married that changed. Well, the Friday evening of my return to Escala a guest arrived." Gail sounds as though she has taken my hand and is leading my mind back into the past.

I say nothing. I know that I am about to hear how Gail met Haley Sams; the enigma of a woman that I have yet to meet and whom I know everything about.

"When I heard the elevator arrive, I assumed it was Jason and Mr. Grey; after all it was nearing dinner time. Then… The voice of a woman asked who I was. I was washing a glass, my back was to this person, and her voice caused me to jump. I turned around and there stood a petite young woman." Gail murmurs and then pauses so we can both catch our breath, "The same type of petite, brunette young women I watched flow in and out of Mr. Grey's life prior to meeting you. Ana… My heart broke the very moment my eyes landed on this woman. I knew what she was."

I feel the blood drain from my face. Gail must notice because she kisses my hands. She is comforting me and I do not know what to say or if I should admit to knowing all about Miss Haley Sams. My continued silence prods Gail along.

"Ana, I wanted to do two things; kill the whore and call you. I rudely informed her I was Mrs. Taylor, to which she replied, "As in the wife of Taylor?" The hairs on my neck stood up when it occurred to me if she knew Jason then he knew her. Then she said, "After all these months, I had no idea that Taylor was married." My mind kept repeating, "After all these months." I was stunned when it really sank in while I stared at this woman; it meant Mr. Grey was cheating on you. Not only cheating on you, Ana, he was back to his old ways with _those types _of women. Then it hit me that Jason was aware of it." She says in a hoarse and darkened voice.

I inwardly cringe thinking of how Gail must have felt in that moment. It must have been a mixture of shock, realization, hurt, then anger. Gail had felt exactly as I had on that April afternoon.

"What," I have to clear my throat before I can continue. "What happened then?"

"She stared at me in confusion and finally set her little suitcase down and introduced herself to me," Gail replies. "Her name is Haley Sams, Ana. She is twenty-three years old and works at Canlis, although I'm not sure in what capacity."

Gail stops talking while I gnaw on my bottom lip and wonder what in the fuck I could possibly say.

"Do you want me to continue with the mundane details of our initial encounter or what has been going on these past months?"

"Just tell me what happened immediately after that and Christian's reaction when he first saw you and this woman together," I reply. I try to offer her a smile of reassurance but fail miserably.

"Miss Sams asked me why I was in the kitchen. I told her that I was Mr. and Mrs. Grey's housekeeper and personal cook. She sarcastically smirked when I said; Mrs. Grey and I had to turn my back to keep myself under control. She told me it was nice to meet me and then the elevator arrived. You see, I never informed Jason that I was following him to Escala that day. Jason and Mr. Grey walked into a shocking surprise," Gail says roughly. "You should have seen their faces when they saw me with his little brown-haired girl. I thought Jason was going to cry. Mr. Grey froze and that sick woman quickly looked at the floor. I nearly threw up! Mr. Grey rubbed his face as if he were trying to scrub something off it. That man looked horrified and no one uttered a syllable."

Ah, another well paid whore with an attitude. We will see if you still smirk at me in a few days, Miss Sams.

"And then?"

I would probably feel I was watching a cheesy Spanish soap opera if this was not another chapter in the demise of my pathetic marriage.

"Mr. Grey abruptly told the woman to leave. Then he went to his study never looking at me. I went to the staff living quarters with Jason on my heels. It took a long time for him to admit about the obvious arrangement that Mr. Grey was having. When he told me it began in April, I was devastated. Ana, I am so sorry, if I had any idea….I would have told you, I swear. I would have never thought Jason would do this to you. You and Jason have always been close. You have always been to us both and I am devastated Jason would hurt you like this…Not even for Mr. Grey."

"Gail, do not apologize for something you were not aware of. It is what it is," I reply and shrug my shoulders. Gail raises an eyebrow. There is no longer any doubt; Gail knows that I am fully aware of what Christian has been up to.

"Ana, there is so much more that I know…but the question is whether or not you need to know," She replies.

I do need to know. I need to know desperately.

"Just tell me what's been going on." Gail is no fool. She knows that knowledge is power.

"The following Monday Mr. Grey told Jason he would no longer need us on the weekends. We all know it is because Miss Sams will be there and he is ashamed for me to see it. He has barely spoken to me these last two months and when he does, he cannot look me in the face. I only speak to him when necessary. It has been hell and I only stayed because I was trying to forgive Jason for keeping this from me. He lied for months," she chokes out the last part and my heart breaks. "However, I will fast forward to the worrisome events that have the security team scrambling for answers."

"Yes, please. Go on, Gail, but take your time," I reply. I am the reason that Christian's security team is scrambling and while the thought amuses me, I am interested in hearing it from those bastard's point of view.

"Mr. Grey discovered that someone got in his study and broke into a file cabinet and his safe. The only things taken were information and pictures about his prior _weekend guests. _Mr. Grey lost his mind and the security team along with Barney from GEH stopped at nothing to discover who did it. Whoever gained entry was able to manipulate and scramble the CCTV cameras. Barney cannot even figure out how the perpetrator managed to pull that off. Mr. Grey screamed for three days and they still do not know who is behind it. Not to mention that Mr. Grey is tearing his hair out because they took information about his proclivities."

They have no clue. Thank fuck.

"I am sorry to say Mr. Grey extended his contract with that woman… Even if you were not in the picture, Ana, I would not care for her. She is a troublemaker, although discussing her is a waste of our time. As you know, right after someone broke into Escala; there was the next mysterious situation over that condominium. So far, it has been just like the files, no one can find out what happened."

Ah, I know where Gail is headed with this. I decide to ignore that Christian extended Haley Sams contract. However, why does Gail assume that I am aware of that condo being gutted?

Christian obviously met my construction buddies.

"So what happened after the break in?"

"Oh, I assumed that you knew, especially since your security detail has increased," Gail begins. "Ana, Mr. Grey owns a condominium not far from Escala. For the life of me, I could not figure out why he would do that. It just seemed strange. I digress, though. Mr. Grey went to this condominium one day and found a construction company had been hired to demolish the inside of the place. In fact, the day Mr. Grey showed up, the demolition was over, and the crew was in the middle of the clean up," She says.

"Christian bought a condo near Escala? Why in the world would he do that?"

"Oh, my dear…Taylor told me that condo was where Mr. Grey had been taking his subs to for…For years, Ana. I am so…"

I wrap Gail in my arms while she weeps. Her tears cause me to cry and she probably believes it is because I am finding this out for the first time. I comfort and remind her that she has nothing to apologize for. I also want her to get back to what she was telling me. Gail assumed that I knew why Prescott was up my ass. Why?

"Hush, Gail, please. Stop apologizing, okay? Take your mind off Christian and his sick behavior and tell me the rest of this mystery that the Hardy Boys have been trying to solve?"

"Well, it is like I said concerning the break in. Not a soul in Mr. Grey's camp can find out who hired this company. They did find out an anonymous man commissioned the construction company and they paid via a wire transfer. Barney has not been able to ascertain where the wire transfer came from. Everyone is running into a concrete wall and cannot figure out who is behind all of this. I have never seen Mr. Grey so crazed. Taylor believes that something horrible is going on around Mr. Grey; he believes someone is privy to his secrets and is about to publically expose him. Paranoia has engulfed Mr. Grey, Taylor and all of security, plus Welch and all the way down to Barney." Gail whispers.

"And they have no idea whatsoever as to whom it could be? Have Christian or Taylor considered that Elena Lincoln is behind all of this?" I ask.

Gail is nodding at me. "Yes, and Taylor believes that even though she's getting ready to make a plea deal, she could have someone doing this for her. It is no secret she was not pleased that Mr. Grey refused to help her legally when she was arrested. Regardless of who is behind it, they consider it a threat of the upmost importance since they are aware of Mr. Grey's lifestyle. They are combing through every ex submissive Mr. Grey ever had since they would obviously know about him. Mr. Grey is now afraid that someone is going to try to hurt a member of the Grey family."

Contemplating Christian and Taylor's way of thinking leaves me confused. Instead of worrying about someone hurting his family, shouldn't they be concentrating on someone out to hurt Christian?

"I know that this horrible situation with you and Mr. Grey has had to put a gap between you, Ana. Just rest assured that Mr. Grey is keeping you safe, although that isn't a secret to you since your detail has been increased," she says and offers me a small grin. "I can picture your face when you first saw Prescott, but Sawyer insisted that she had to be the female CPO on you."

My face must surely be as blank as my brain is right now. They have been freaking out assuming that a masked intruder broke into Escala and stole all of Christian's dirty little secrets. The whore factory has been demolished and has taken freaking out to a whole other dimension, causing Christian and Taylor to jump to a conspiracy theory and now I have a gigantic woman named Prescott following me to the bathroom. A gigantic woman that one of my best friends insisted she had to be my female CPO. Luke, one of my best friends that I have asked repeatedly about Prescott and he lied to my face about it.

Holding up my hand, I gesture for her to stop. I need Gail to confirm what she just said and when this bullshit started. How long did Prescott arrive on the scene after Luke insisted on her joining my detail.

"When was this, Gail? The need for extra security, that is?" I ask.

"The very day that they found out about Mr. Grey's little hideaway."

Both of the unfortunate events that befell on Christian were a month ago…Perhaps a little over a month ago. Shit, what day did that crew start the demo on the best little whore house in Seattle?

I do not like the direction my mind is going. Luke, insisting on an unwarranted female CPO. Luke lying to about it for weeks. Luke around Taylor every day at security briefings. Is he playing them? On the other hand, is he playing me?

"From the look on your face, I see that you had no idea why Prescott was added to your detail," Gail tells me cautiously. "This means I need to let you know you are being covertly watched as well."

Gail's words feel like the pin that punctured the balloon that I am. Nearly every word she has told me is nothing new to me. However…Luke…Prescott…Lies…Covertly followed?

Think, Ana, think. Think when, where, how? Add it all up and put it together. You knew Luke was around Taylor and Christian every morning since that shit afternoon in April. Why in the fuck did I not pay more attention to this new shit situation the minute I saw Prescott? I ignored it and let it go.

Prescott appeared on the scene right after I returned from New York. Luke claimed that he had no clue why Taylor had added the woman to work with him. Fuck. Why did I not realize that since Luke is Taylor's right hand man that Luke would know everything? Hell, did I place so much trust in Luke that I was blinded to the fact that he would have no idea why Prescott was listening to me piss? He kept this from me and when I asked him what this was all about, Luke lied to my face. Repeatedly lied to my face. If Luke knew all of this, what else does he know? What all did he know from day one? What if he is actually working with Christian and telling him everything?

I have no way of knowing because I have just discovered that I can no longer believe a fucking word that exits the mouth of Lucas Sawyer. That son of a bitch.

"No, Gail, I do not know anything about this. When I asked Luke what was going on, he told me he had no idea," I reply.

"You should have known not to believe him, Ana. They have security briefings everyday and everyone is aware of what is going on. I do agree you should have more security with these strange occurrences, although you should not have been kept in the dark about it. That is such typical Christian Grey behavior. Maybe Sawyer did not tell you because he didn't want to worry you. I know that you and Mr. Grey are not on the…best of terms right now, but when you are together, doesn't he mention any of this?"

I am still feeling the tidal waves of Luke's deception rolling over me and am barely paying attention to what Gail is saying. Placing my hands in my hair in order to pull it out, I think better of it and snap out of my lone thoughts. Poker face, Ana. Poker face.

"Gail, when I am with Christian these days we engage in chit chat and talk shop over Grey Publishing. Every picture you have seen of us at some damn social function is for public appearances. Our marriage is exactly as you believe it to be." I say this and sigh deeply. Gail compassionately gazes at me.

"Ana, I came here to tell you more than I have and I am just going to say it all at once. Is that okay? I cannot bear to say things I know will hurt you, but I have to let you know this." Gail says. "I cannot leave without you being informed. I just cannot." She says. Her voice is so sad.

"Go ahead, Gail. I would prefer it that way. Please, just rip off the band-aid."

"There have been five subs during your marriage, Ana. Mr. Grey returned to his previous lifestyle only months into your marriage." Gail's words are an explosion of violent air. They are rushed and tortured and evidence of how long she has suffered with finding a way to tell me. Hearing this from Gail kills me.

I cannot feel guilty for sending her to Escala that day as her husband had gone with Christian. I cannot help that she knows what Christian has been doing. This is all on Christian and then it trickles down to Jason.

I stand up, pacing my office, and try to decide how I should best respond. I trust Gail, although I cannot place all of my eggs into one basket. I have to keep my mouth shut and do not even ask her how she knows. I have no other choice but to steer the conversation back to her.

"Gail, why haven't you spoken to Taylor in several days?"

Her shoulders shake as she begins sob, shuddering with each rapid breath. We sit quietly and I rub her back for what feels like a very long time until Gail collects herself.

"Once all of this insanity broke out and Jason was working himself to death concerning security, I finally got the truth out of him. When I say the truth, I mean when I found out about all of the subs Mr. Grey has had throughout your marriage. Jason was aware of everything from day one. Day one meaning since 2013 and he kept it from me and lied to me all that time… Not only did he lie and fool me, Ana, he lied and fooled you as well. As I see it, he is no better than Mr. Grey is. I have spent over a week deciding what I should do and I know that I could not be married to a man that I cannot trust or a man who would allow you to be treated and made out to be a fool. I packed up and left Escala. My resignation is on the kitchen counter. I left a letter to Jason telling him my lawyer would be in touch."

Oh, shit. Christian, look what you have caused. You have hurt so many innocent people. Couldn't you just have hurt yourself?

"Please, Gail, no! Do not allow my marriage to interfere with your own!"

"This is not about your marriage, Ana. It is about trust." She replies.

Mother fucking shit. I have to let this information absorb before I can say anything else.

"Gail, you know they have someone following you and know that you came here and have probably told me all of this."

"I do not care. Do you, Ana?" She asks.

I tell her no, although I cannot help but worry that if Taylor and Christian know that Gail paid me a visit that she told me everything. Should I even worry about that? What do I do know? Trusting Luke is now impossible. How do I trust all of the security guys that he hired for me? If he is their boss, then they know the same shit that Luke does and have kept me in the dark as well. I cannot go to them for help. Whom can I trust at all anymore?

"No, Gail, I really do not give a fuck. What are you going to do now?"

"I am going to my sister's." She replies.

"Will you come work for me?"

Shaking her head slowly, Gail offers me a sad smile. "That house and everything in it would remind me of Jason. I mean no offense when I say this, Ana, but seeing you reminds me of Jason. I have to get away from the madness that has surrounded the last decade of my life. Do you know how many times I have had to clean that red room up? Can you imagine the disgusting things I have had to pick up and dispose of? All of the things I have walked in on with Mr. Grey and those women? I overlooked so much for so long because I thought that deep down Mr. Grey was a good man. Now…Now I know that he is not."

"Gail…"

She shakes her head at me. "No, Ana. Mr. Grey is not a good man and I am positive that you already know that. A good man would never do what he has done to you."

How can I disagree with that statement when I feel the same way? I was enamored with him when I met him at that photo shoot, I was blinded by charm that night at his club, and I fell in love with him on fucking Skype when he was out of the country. Then I was shown who he really was. Christian changed long enough for me to blink my eyelashes and I loved him so much that I never considered he would return to his old way of life. He changed before my blinded eyes and became a better person, although it was only for a moment. I thought the story of Christian Grey was about redemption. Now I see the story of Ana Grey was about crucifixion.

It is what it is and one man's decision led us all to this point. Christian's choices will affect so many lives that I cannot even begin to count them all. I suppose Gail and I are collateral damage and we part ways promising to stay in touch. Before leaving, she turns to me and is trying her best to smile.

"Ana, I want to tell you how proud I am of you. I am talking about the publishing house that is. I know that Mr. Grey had bought it and then turned it over to you; but you are the one who has turned it all around and made it so successful. You have made so much of yourself in such a short time and I am so proud of you. Do not worry, Ana. You are going to come out of this just fine," She whispers.

I feel as though the mother I never really had just abandoned me. My heart is broken.

I show Gail out of my office after a long hug and once we are done weeping. Shutting the door behind her, I lock it and flop down on the sofa. Hands over my face, a mind in a jumbled hell, and facing the question if I have surrounded myself with turncoats, hot tears pour down my face. I had finally achieved inner peace. I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death. Yes, I have had to hold many hands in order to get here. Hands that have pointed me in which direction I ought to travel, hands that steadied me as I stumbled along my way, and hands that have comforted me while I bled all over them. I have been feeling more confident and sure of my own capabilities than I have in my entire life. I doubt myself now. Doubting that my confidence is nothing but smoke and mirrors and that the positive future I have planned is nothing but a mist-covered ghost. Perhaps I once again handed over my own fate to another and they played me for a fool as Christian Grey did.

Finally dragging myself to my feet, I look at my face in the mirror of my office bathroom. I look like a complete mess. Mascara has run down my face and I have no doubt that if Kate saw me she would kick my ass for not buying waterproof mascara. Splashing water on my face, I take a hand towel and just wash the disaster that is my face. There is nothing I can do about my swollen eyes. I feel as though there is nothing I can do about anything anymore.

Sitting behind my desk, I rub my temples and contemplate what I should do. Gail's words rattled me more than I have admitted to myself. I try to concentrate on the positive aspects of what Gail told me- Christian does not suspect me of anything. This eases my mind and is one less worry for me to harbor. Then there are Gail's words that leave no doubt in my mind about Luke. Luke?

Other than my dad, Luke is the only other man I trust. Rather, that I did trust. Luke has kept me in the dark over a situation that he fucking started himself. Did he think that would not bother me or was it that he thought that I would never find out? I asked him if he knew anything about why Prescott had been thrown upon us and he denied knowing anything every time I inquired about it. Why was I stupid enough to not realize that he would certainly know what was going on? Grey and his goons are going nuts over something and have shoved more security up my ass, yet Luke sat in their security briefings and never heard that mentioned? Yeah, right. Luke is my CPO and I deserve a right to know the slightest change that has anything to do with me. Shit! How could I still be so gullible? Still so fucking naïve and trusting?

Christian's inner circle running around like three blind mice surely has my husband feeling out of control. Like an out of control drug addict who cannot be without their drug of choice-BDSM. The thought depresses me. Not for me or what his addiction cost me, but for how Christian is trapped within an endless cycle. This endless cycle that is tearing apart other people's lives. Fuck, just, fuck.

It is now safe to say that every member of Christian's security team is aware of his extra marital activities and I look like a fucking idiot. Well, that is assuming they all didn't know from the get go.

I woke up this morning feeling empowered and in charge of my destiny and now; I feel embarrassed and like a fool. Not only has Luke been aware of this bullshit, so has every man on the security team that I hired as my own. Luke has sat beside this Prescott woman knowing she is nothing more than a spy for Christian and Taylor, but he also knows that another Grey goon has been following us around while Tom follows them! They all knew for over a month and lied to me. What else has Luke Sawyer kept from me? How many of my secrets has he told Taylor and Christian? Is this why Christian has not gone nuts on me about living apart or asking questions over my behavior, and demanding answers?

It is when I am lost in my thoughts that I hear someone trying to open my door and then Luke calling my name. I do not answer for several minutes while Benedict Arnold says my name repeatedly.

"I am busy, right now. Give me a second," I yell.

He can wait all day for all the fucks I give. I am going to confront him, he is going to lie, and the chips will fall as they may. All I know is that I am picking those chips up and will handle my own life from here on out. Kate may be recuperating from childbirth, but her mind is still a machine. Whatever step we come up for me to take next is what I will do and I will do it on my own. I am tired of playing around with other people's ideas about my life and future. I am fed up with playing Christian Grey's social Barbie doll. In fact, I have had enough of the pathetically fake life I have been allowing myself to live. I have been giving into Christian in order to keep his public persona spotless and without a scratch of impropriety. Fuck that and fuck him.

Yeah, this will cause a shit storm of epic proportions and I will be slammed with the media in my face for God knows how long; but I am doing this anyway. Let's watch Taylor, Grey, and the traitorous Luke deal with it. Grabbing a phone book, I quickly locate the number to the Seattle Times and grab my burner phone. Luke knocks on the door several more times as I inform a Times reporter about the demise of Mr. and Mrs. Christian Grey's marriage. Just to throw an interesting wrench in the mix, I also leave a sniff to the trail of Mr. Grey's extracurricular activities being the reason. It is time to start fucking with my husband.

Throwing my office door open, I walk to the center of my office with my arms folded and Luke on my heels. He takes one look at my face and his eyes tell me everything that I already know. There is no sense playing the did you or did you fucking not card at this point. He knows that I know and we are both playing chicken to see who makes the first move. I sure as hell know that it will not be me.

"Why do you look like shit?" He murmurs, standing directly in front of me. "Is everything okay? It looks like Gail upset you."

My murderous thoughts abandon me. Sighing deeply, I shake my head.

"We aren't playing this game, Luke," I say and step closer to him. "Admit it all and perhaps one day I will speak to you again."

He is wearing the stupid impassive look that I see on the faces of all of these douche bag security guys and I simply smirk at him. I am in his personal space. He smells good enough to eat and is handsome as a man could possibly be. I imagine that he can be a loving and carefree man who would probably go out of his way rather than hurt one that he loves. However, all I see or care about is that he is fucking liar and I cannot trust him. All that I hoped for was someone that I could trust. Someone to be my friend and give a shit whether I lived or died. This will be impossible to attain with Luke Sawyer since I will never believe a word out of his lying fucking mouth again.

"What did Gail tell you, Ana?"

I step from the fury I feel. I did not leave him any room to question me. Once Luke admits to being a traitor, I am leaving GP and going to God knows where. Fuck them all and fuck Seattle.

"I said that I am not playing this game with you. I will not waste another second looking at your face since I am about to walk out of this office building. I suggest you just spill your guts quickly." My voice is toneless.

Luke exhales and rubs the back of his neck. He feels guilty about his actions; he knows it was wrong.

"They haven't even given thought that you would do any of this, Ana," Luke says, exasperated. "I kept the security bullshit to myself to keep you from freaking out. Like you are right now."

"You just didn't keep bullshit information from me! You lied to my face whenever I would ask you why Godzilla out there was following me in a bathroom! You. Fucking. Lied. To. Me. In addition, you knew another one of Christian's fuckers was following us around. Was that your doing as well? I know that hiring Prescott was your idea!" I snarl at him.

My office is deadly quiet and I am sure I can hear Luke's heart strumming inside his chest. Moving away from him by a sudden surge of disgust, I sit down behind my desk and start throwing papers and other useless crap into my briefcase. I spot the burner phone and hurl it at Luke's head, although I miss it by a mile. He does not acknowledge it and sits on the edge of my desk.

"Yes, I lied to you and I lied every time that you asked me." He admits with a frown. "But I did it…"

"Why did you do it? Oh, wait. I know! You never wanted me to find out it was you who suggested that I have a female CPO! Luke, we know that I do not need another CPO! We are the one that is doing this shit! That itself leaves me with quite a few questions." I am growling at him like a feral animal and while Luke has seen me behave in many ways these past months, this behavior is a new one.

He is lucky I am nowhere near a firearm. Of course, Luke would have me disarmed within seconds but that does not mean I could not have squeezed off a round before he did so. How could he do this to me? I trusted him with every thought I had and every word I spoke. Yet he was in the devil's den everyday and it never occurred to me that he was the type of man who would betray me this way. I thought he was better than that and had a heart and a conscience. I had spent so many hours over these past years trusting him with my personal safety and it all seems that his loyalty was elsewhere the entire time.

"Are you working with Taylor and Christian?" I ask in a soft-spoken voice that defies the screaming inside my soul.

Luke's eyes that had been locked on the floor suddenly dart to my face. His expression is incredulous and then full of anger. "Ana, why in the hell would…"

"Shut the fuck up!" I snap at him. "Gail told me what you bumbling bunch of idiots have been doing for over a month! You're going along with their stupidity and you're the one who helped do it!" I scream in his face.

"Ana, you know I have to go along with the team. I cannot give anyone an inch to doubt me and you have known this all along! Fuck, what did you expect me to do? Tell Taylor that Grey's idea to place a female CPO on you was stupid?" He asks. "I chose Prescott because she knows her shit."

I throw my head back and what sounds like a laugh mixed with a scream exits my throat. I shake my head in frustration.

"Do you honestly believe that is the issue? Luke, are you a complete idiot or are you playing dumb to pull one over on me?"

Luke actually looks shocked at my outburst. "Playing dumb? What the fuck, Ana?" He starts to say, gets off my desk, and stands to his full height.

"I will lay this out to you very simply. First, you lied repeatedly when I asked you what is going on. You are the one who added Prescott to me. You knew there was some fool following me. You now have the guys you hired for me lying as well. And the important part is that your lying behavior points to you being a fucking spy for Christian!"

I am beyond livid and approaching levels of incoherency. The word liar is on repeat in my head as I look at Luke. He betrayed me. Luke is nothing but another man who has betrayed me and I want to leave here and never be near him again.

"Are you out of your ever loving mind? A spy? You think that I am working for Grey and lying to you. You actually believe I would have done all of this for you if I was up Taylor and Grey's ass?" He spits through gritted teeth. "Who carried you in their arms while they walked into Kate's house the day you found out, Ana? Hmm…who?"

I roll my eyes at him. "Like that fucking counts for shit."

Luke has placed his hands on my desk, bending over to look me in my anger-filled eyes. His shock is full of a raging anger and I am unbelievably blown away that he thinks he can get away without owing up to lying to me.

"I only know that you lied to me over and over," I reply quietly and pause before finishing. "You know that I do not deal with liars. I have been lied to for too long. I handed you every thread of trust that I had and you fucked it off. I can no longer conceive whom I can trust, Luke, but since you have proven yourself a liar, I know I no longer trust you." I whisper.

"I am sorry that I lied. I honestly have no reasonable explanation why I did other than I felt I fucking had to, but for you to say that I am working with Grey…"

For the first time, I look at Luke and feel like weeping. "Can you comprehend how much you have hurt me?" I ask him.

Luke's expression is one of regret and pain. For a moment, I think his arm had moved in order to touch me. "Ana, I am…"

"Fuck it." I spit out. Grabbing my briefcase and purse, I stand up and face him, sighing deeply. "I am ready to leave now. Go get your he-she and take me home."

Storming through my door, I look down at Prescott and throw her an angry glare. I hope the cunt heard every word. "Get off your ass. I'm ready to go home now."

Neither Luke nor Prescott utters a word on the drive home.

Knowing an entire flock of Grey goons fills the security office, I storm toward the room, throwing my briefcase into it. Prescott disappeared like Casper the fucking friendly ghost, although Luke is planted right behind me. I burst into the room full of dumb fucks that are probably loaded up on steroids and my eyes land on the slime ball Reynolds. I am gripping my phone, ready to do as planned if they do not pay heed to what I am about to order them to do. I see nothing but red and the shit load of bastards who have followed my every move for over three years now. It is time to take my life back.

"I want every single one of you out of my home and I mean right now. Each piece of foul shit that you happen to be are fired. If you dare say that you are employees of Christian Grey, please remember my name is also on your paycheck. If you do not get up off your lazy asses this very moment, I am fully prepared to dial 911 and have you physically removed as trespassers. Do I make myself fucking clear?" I say, walking around the room and looking down on each of their shocked faces. To my raging fury, I catch Reynolds pulling out his phone, probably to call Taylor. I storm my way to him, hesitating before growling out my words.

"Put down the fucking phone that I pay for you to use, you sick mother fucker and get your ass off of my property." I lean over him and show him that I have already punched in the number nine.

Reynolds looks to Luke as though Luke can offer an explanation. I feel Luke's hand gently take my elbow and I pull my arm away and swing around to him.

"This includes you, Sawyer. Get your shit and get the fuck out of here. I am not fucking around with any of you. This God-awful house is mine and you are trespassing. I will call 911 and then Carrick Grey and get restraining orders against each one of you. Do I make myself clear or do I need to speak slower so that you dumb fucks are able to understand what I am saying?"

"Mrs. Grey, this is not a good idea and I need for you to calm down," Luke says.

"No, Sawyer. This is the best idea I have had in a very long time and I do not have a reason to calm down. Do yourself a favor and tell your buddy Reynolds to follow you as you get the hell out of my home." I reply and raise an eyebrow at him.

"Mrs. Grey, please." He replies.

The silence that surrounds us is profound and drips emotion. Reynolds and the other men continue to stare at me as if I have lost my mind. Luke's expression is blank. There is no doubt that he realizes he fucked up and that I truly believe he has betrayed me; that he is a turncoat and the fact has pushed me too far. I meet his eyes steadily to tell him that his thought is correct.

Turning back to the idiots in the security office, I look at my watch and realize that I am burning daylight.

"I am going upstairs and when I come back down, you had all best be gone. Call Taylor and tell him what is going on and I will tell him to fuck off as well. Now get the fuck out of my home."

Retrieving my briefcase from the floor, I storm past Luke and kick myself for trusting Grey's flunky.

Going into my walk in closet, I grab a small suitcase and throw in enough clothes to last me for a few days. My phone rings within one minute-Christian's ringtone. The synapses in my brain are firing at a rapid rate and I realize that I cannot give him too much information. Nevertheless, screw him and his edicts toward my very existence. Christian Grey does not fucking own me.

"What?" I breathe into the phone, practically unable to speak.

Naturally, Christian is screaming at the top of his lungs.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Anastasia? You cannot fire and run security off! They are on my payroll and I am the only one that can fire them! What in the hell is wrong with you?" You cannot be without a security detail!" He screams.

I imagine his face is blood red and the veins of his neck are showing and pumping away furiously, pulling at his hair. I do not even give a fuck to wonder why in the shit he even cares about my safety.

"My name is on their paychecks and gives me every right to tell them to get off this property. My property…The property in the name of Anastasia Steele Grey. Did you forget that, Christian?"

"Anastasia…" I can hear the warning in his tone.

"Shut up, Christian! I am not fucking done talking! You lied to me every time I saw you and asked you about Prescott! I am also aware that you have some dumb ass following me around! Tell me, Christian, what the fuck is up with all of that? Huh? Do you have anything you need to tell me?" I had started speaking in a whisper but by the time my rant was finished, my voice had risen to a crescendo.

Christian loudly exhales before he answers in a much calmer tone. He speaks to me as though I am a child and my impotent wrath spurs my need to tear this house apart with my own two hands.

"Anastasia, I chose to keep you from worrying about this situation. Call it lying if you wish," He says wryly. "Sometimes I need to be able to keep you safe without your questions…"

Pushing my bangs off my forehead, I shake my head. His lies know no bounds and all I want to know is why, why, why? Why does Christian keep dragging us both through this hell? This supposed boy genius has got to know that our marriage is over even if we have not discussed it. Why does he even want to stay married to me at all? What was his motivation in continuing our marriage despite preferring to beat and fuck a well-compensated whore? Am I some sort of beard to keep his family and the public at bay? God, someone explain this to me! I look at my suitcase on the bed and have an immediate urge to get the hell off this phone along with leaving this house. Whatever Christian decides to do with his gang of limp dicks is his business. I am leaving and after the media hits tomorrow Christian will be looking for a rock to hide under.

Scoffing at his words and rolling my eyes, I have to effectively shut him out of my mind. I have already let Christian rent too much space in my head. This has to stop and stop soon. My only relief is knowing there is a light at the end of this tunnel.

"Keep me safe, keep me safe from what? Oh, wait, you have never told me shit! What is with all of this added security, Christian? If I were stupid, I would miss the signals that you are awful paranoid about something! I am over this bullshit. Let your shadow Taylor order these fools to stay in an empty house. I am leaving and I am leaving alone. Have a great fucking night, Christian!" My reply is quiet and cautious since I am not sure if Christian has the ability to make my phone explode in my hand.

"You're not leaving that house, Anastasia! Do you understand me? Where in the fuck are you going, Anastasia? Do not leave…" Christian's loud and angry words are hot and seething.

"Good bye, Christian."

I cannot remember the last time that I hung up on my husband and I am not positive that I ever have. He calls me right back and I send it straight to voicemail, just as I do with the next ten times that he calls me. Sighing deeply, I nod at myself as though I need to give myself approval for getting the fuck out of here. I grab my phone and type a text to Kate.

"I'm headed to dads. Tomorrow will be a media shit storm &amp; I am the unidentified close family friend. Do not &amp; I mean this, DO NOT tell Luke shit. We cannot trust him. Hope you are feeling well. Text you when I get to dad's. Love u. xx"

Charlie Brown and friends are still in the security office. Once again, Christian and Taylor trumped me. Turning the corner, I make my way to the utility room where all of the car keys are kept. I grab the ones to my R8 and head to the door that leads to the garage. I find Luke there leaning against the door staring at me.

"Where do you think you are going?" He asks exasperatedly. I flip him off.

"Anywhere I want. I know that you and your boss think that I am a four-year-old idiot; you should be well aware, I am independent and can take care of myself. Now move." I say brusquely.

"Jesus, Ana. I may have lied to you about Prescott," He says in a strained voice. "But I am not working behind your back with Grey and you can trust me with your life."

I laugh bitterly and ignore his words. "Luke, please, move."

Luke's eyes never leave mine as he steps away from the door. I hear him sigh. "Ana, at least tell me where you are going?" He pleads.

"We both know that you will follow me. It will not take you long to figure out where I am headed," I say softly. "Luke, when you try to fall asleep tonight, know that you have broken my heart."

Two vehicles follow me to Montesano. My dad has no idea that I am on my way. Obviously, Christian knows since he finally quit calling. Somewhere along the exhausting road trip, Kate replied to my text message demanding answers. I want to hurry up and get to Ray's and decide to text her back once I have arrived. The drive to Montesano ends up being the best time I have had in ages. I fly all the way there, never driving slower than eighty miles per hour and I can only imagine how pissed off my two stalkers must be as they attempt to keep up with me. I know Luke is driving the SUV behind me and that he must be seething. He says I am the worst driver he has ever seen and refuses to ride in a vehicle that I am driving.

Christian had a lot of work done on the house I grew up in, however, I still recognize the original part of my childhood home. I am nearly on the porch when I spot my dad looking out the window at his late night guest and he turns on the front porch light. Opening up the screen door, Ray starts to smile until I burst into tears and drop my purse and suitcase on the floor. Angela comes up behind my father and shuts the door behind us. Dad was never comfortable with emotion or knowing the right thing to say and I feel his head turn toward Angela for help. Ray pats my back once I am in Angela's arms and all cried out. They appear quite puzzled as to why I have unexpectedly shown up so late at night.

Thirty minutes, two bottles of beer and meaningless bullshit pass us by. The longer I sit on the couch with my legs tucked underneath me, the calmer I begin to feel and finally relax. I know that Ray and Angela are waiting for me to explain what is going on. Ray pats me on the knee and asks me the million-dollar question.

"Honey, we sure are glad you came for a visit. I am worried though. Anastasia, you look paler than usual and I think you have lost ten pounds since we saw you two weeks ago. Don't give your old man the run around either. Tell your dad what is wrong with his girl." He says quietly.

Ray's presence and kind brown eyes are enough to either break me down into a pit of tears or lift me up to the heavens with laughter. The love my stepfather has so freely given to me is beyond measure. Now I have Angela and she is his female equivalent. Angela, who is sitting beside me, puts an arm around me, smiling. How I wish she could have been my mother.

"What happened?" She whispers.

Looking between the two of them, Angela strokes my hair and I realize that I have to make a snap decision. I had always assumed that I would keep Christian's infidelity from my dad. I would never tell him the exact truth of it all and I have a fear that Ray will shoot him. It takes a few moments before I come to a decision. This man put his life on hold until I was safely ensconced in college. He sacrificed so many things in order to take care of me, along with sacrifices I am positive I do not even know about. How could I ever have thought I should keep the truth from him? I would have never been able to disrespect his love by lying to him on a daily basis. I owe him too much.

"Daddy, I lied to you when you asked me why Christian had moved out,"

Ray offers me a small smile before saying anything. "I know you better than anyone, Anastasia Rose; of course I knew you were lying." He replies quietly.

Before continuing, I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "I am sorry…Sorry for lying to you both."

Angela remains silent. I can feel that she is aware this discussion is between my father and me, although she knows he cannot offer me the comfort that only a woman can, so she remains beside me.

"Did you come all the way out here to tell me the truth?" He asks.

"Yes," I admit slowly. "But you have to promise me that you will not go to Seattle and kill Christian. I am also here because I need you." I reply, sounding like a little girl.

Ray knows what I have just told him without actually saying the words. He leans back in his chair, rubbing his forehead and I hear him quietly mutter, "That son of a bitch."

"How long has it been going on?" He finally asks.

My blood feels like a rush of panic running through me. Knowing that I am about to admit an edited version of the truth to my father has nearly thrown me backward. If it was not for the undying devotion in his eyes and Angela wrapping her comfort around me, I would not be able to speak.

"For a long time, although that does not matter. I am no longer suffering delusions when it comes to Christian." I murmur.

Ray's anger reaches me from the recliner he is sitting in. He leans forward and takes my hand.

"Darlin', tell your daddy what you're going to do and what you need from me,"

I study this man. With his dark hair that is sprinkled with grey and his constant, kind brown eyes, he remains the most handsome man that I have ever seen. Ray's height and still muscular frame remind me of the Rhett Butler Margaret Mitchell so eloquently described. He will forever be my hero-the man who saved me. I know that I can depend upon him for anything. I know that I can depend on Ray and Angela for anything.

"I have divorce papers being drawn up and as for needing you, well, I found out that I cannot trust Sawyer." I hesitantly reply.

Ray's eyebrows furrow when I mention Luke. "What did Sawyer do, Ana? Why do you say you don't trust him?"

During some point as we were talking, Angela had gotten up and poured Ray a glass of bourbon. She takes her place beside me, but says nothing.

"That does not really matter," I mumble anxiously. "I need to ask you a favor…Actually ask you both a favor and if it's too much, I will understand."

Angela finally speaks up. "We will do anything you need, Ana. Just tell us what you want us to do," She tells me. There is no reason to look at her. I do not doubt her words.

"I left the house tonight. I cannot live under Christian's scrutiny or the thumb of his security any longer. Even though we've been living apart, Christian is still running my life."

Taking a second, I exhale deeply before continuing. All the while my dad and Angela's eyes are glued to my face.

"I want…No; I need for you both to accompany me back to Seattle for awhile. I can put us all up at the Fairmont if that is alright with you guys." I plead with them both, although pleading is unnecessary.

"When do you want to head out, darlin'?" Ray asks. My gratitude must surely glow through my sad smile.

"In a few days, dad. I called the Seattle Times today and tipped them off concerning the truth of my marriage. The next few days will be a media frenzy."

Ray nods at me and I believe it is pride that I see in his eyes. He stands and goes to the front door, opening it. I know that he is looking at the two SUV's in the yard and is positive that Luke is in one of them. Ray glares at both vehicles. Angela places an arm around my waist and we meet Ray at the door. The SUV's lights are off, the front porch's light is on, and I know that Luke and his co conspirator can clearly see us. Thinking of Luke sitting out there and picturing his face saddens me to the point of tears.

"Is that bastard Grey aware that you know he's been screwing around?" Ray's question is a growl.

Shaking my head no and running my hands over my face, I mumble no. Ray and Angela let my answer pass by in silence. The three of us continue to stare at the vehicles through the screen door.

"Well, that's a good thing." Angela says in a soft and motherly tone.

Then she lifts the arm that is not around my waist and flips off both of the darkened Audi's.

A/N

I discovered the hard way that my outline for this chapter was put together correctly, but the pivotal reasoning behind the chapter pretty much sucked. If it were not for my friend graypearls, I would have written myself into a corner that made no sense. Therefore, everyone thank graypearls for her sharp eye and intelligence. I would still be looking at what I had written and wondering why it did not fit or even sound realistic if it were not for her. So thank you graypearls. We only have a few chapters left and I believe the next chapter may be one you have been looking forward too. My husband is still recovering and I will write and update the next chapter when I can.-Anna


	24. Chapter 24

All rights to the characters and story of FSoG belong to E. L. James

_**The Path To A Happy Ending Is An Exhausting Road**_

_**Friday, August 28**__**th**__**, 2015**_

_Montesano, Washington_

_Ana's POV_

"You're an idiot, Steele!"

Pulling my phone from my ear, I check the time and groan. It is five in the morning and even though the phone is away from my eardrum, I can still hear Katherine Grey shrieking and now leaving me with the need of a hearing aid. I stretch my exhausted limbs and unwillingly place my cell back to its proper place. I may be incoherent from a disrupted sleep, but I still cannot help my curiosity over Kate sounding like a cat that is receiving a bath.

"Kate, don't take this personally, but why are you calling me at five in the morning?"

My best friend sighs in exasperation. "I'm nursing Emma Grace for your information and I am calling to talk some sense into your ass." She snaps.

I rub my eyes and silently curse ever meeting this woman. Staying up too late and only getting four hours of sleep does not make Ana a happy woman. Not to say that she was a happy woman before she went to bed. Betrayal is a bitter gall that leaves a rotten taste on your tongue and leads to bleeding of the ears. Things not conducive to getting much rest at night.

"Why does my ass need sense, pray tell?" I ask with a hoarse and raspy voice. Damn, I sound like shit.

"One word: Luke. I spent an hour interrogating him last night and while he admits that keeping you in the dark broke your trust, he is innocent of being some sort of double agent that is working for the king of pain. I believe every word that Luke said and do you want to know why?"

Emma Grace is happily gurgling in the background. I cannot believe Kate is lecturing me about this while a baby is latched to one of her tits. I frown in the darkness of my childhood bedroom.

"You called Luke?" I mutter incredulously. "Can you explain why you did that?"

"Ana, I called him because I was positive that the text you sent me about him could not be the truth. Now take your ass downstairs and talk to Luke and get this shit straightened out!"

Kate demanding that I go downstairs causes me to sit up immediately. "Downstairs? Why in the hell is Luke in this house?" I ask hesitantly. Suddenly I feel that some sort of shit went down after I finally collapsed in the bed and the thought displeases me thoroughly.

She practically growls at me in frustration. "Luke is in the house because Ray took it upon himself to walk outside and ask Luke what in the fuck was going on. He even believes him and forced him to come inside and get out of that damn SUV!" Kate's voice unbelievably emits even louder shrieking.

It is lovely to hear that those closest to me are taking it upon themselves to delve into my feelings of Luke's betrayal. I am accelerating from anger to rage. If I felt caged in yesterday, I have no word to describe how that makes me feel at this moment.

"So you and my dad are now detectives? Jesus, Kate. Does anyone respect my…"

"Listen to me BFF and know that I am telling you out of years of loving you. I totally get why you feel the way you do; but you are dead wrong about this situation," she says in a softer tone. "I have another single word to say to you: Escala"

"Meaning?" For some reason I am now silently pleading for Kate to convince me that I am wrong. I can always blame this instant change of my mind from a sleep-filled haze, but it is probably more of an indicator that I am actually tripolar. Then again, marrying Christian Grey was an indicator I suffer from a mental illness.

I can hear her moving around and I suspect she has put the baby to her shoulder to burp her. Pinching the skin between my eyes, I sigh sadly and wonder if I will ever have my own baby in my arms. Now my shrink's voice is rolling inside my head and telling me to stop feeling sorry for myself. "You're still so young; you have plenty of time to find love, blah, blah, and blah."

"Have you forgotten the trip you and Luke took to D.C.?" Kate asks, this time sounding even more exasperated. "Think about the trouble Luke went through for you. Then seriously consider how he arranged for Grey to be caught in more disgusting and incriminating situations that will enable you to twist his life into a pretzel. Do you really believe Luke would allow you to have that kind of evidence if he was playing you?"

Letting out a deep breath, I resign that Kate's words are true. My sudden change of heart does not surprise me. I never wanted to believe Luke would treat me that way and leave me devastated, hanging upside down from the Space Needle.

Kate continues her yapping and what she says next is nearly enough to make me drive to her house and kick her in the gut.

"Do not forget that you have also been keeping something from Luke as well. So do you really think you have any place up on a high horse?' She asks.

"Kate, I'm a grown woman who turns twenty-five in a matter of days. If I want to stay in contact with Riley, I fucking will. There's no harm in talking to him on the phone, you know?" I huff.

"No harm, Ana? Seriously? It is like Luke said from the beginning of the Riley show, you cannot trust that he will not blab about the two of you once being involved and that you have now supposedly reconnected!"

"Reconnected? We have hardly reconnected, Kate. We occasionally speak on the phone…"

"Anastasia, that is even too much. I will say this again, I agree with Luke on this point. Stop talking to Riley."

Deciding to ignore her order, I maturely hold my phone out and stick my tongue out at it.

"If Luke's been in the house most of the night, where has his shadow been? You know that jack ass will think that looks shady." I say, rolling my eyes and finally getting out of bed.

Kate sighs that I changed the subject. "Ray sent him packing to some motel. He convinced the fucker that he gave a shit that he was going to have to sit in a vehicle all night."

The scenario is typical Ray Steele and I vaguely realize that I am putting on a pair of ratty sweats to head downstairs and seek Luke out. I remain silent long enough to thoroughly irritate Kate and pleasantly amuse myself.

"Well, if it is any consolation, Luke feels like shit about all of this. You should know that he did have a hand in bringing Prescott into the fray, but he has known her for a long time and trusts her. However, rest assured that she has no idea what is really going on and is working under Taylor's orders, but knows Luke well enough to listen when he tells her he reports in to Taylor. Ana, just go sort this out with him. Even if he was playing us for fools, Luke's essential with this shit and could cause it to explode in your face and you'd be in a point of no return." Her words demonstrate the patience she has never had.

"Fine, Kate. I see and understand what you are saying and I have already put on sweats to go down to talk with him. Despite that, Luke did dent my trust and has actually hurt me," I whisper. "You know I do not handle those feelings well."

Kate scoffing at my words does not go unnoticed. "Hurt, huh? Interesting." She makes no further attempt to elaborate on her thoughts over my choice of words, which surprises me. Kate is never one to mince words or not scream her opinion to anyone she damn well pleases, even if no one is listening or gives a shit.

"I am ending this conversation now, Katherine. I promise that I will let you know how it goes…"

"Nope, there won't be any seeing how it goes. It is going to go one way and that is the both of you apologizing and then brain storming over how to handle shit once the paper is out. I nearly forgot to tell you that your little tip to the Times is already on several tabloid websites. I have zero doubt that Grey will have Barney take them down for awhile, although he won't be able to do shit about the written print or a news source that picks it up online before the sites are fucked with." She says, lifting my spirits and placing a large smile on my face.

"I take that you have already read it online," I giggle. "What does it say?" I cannot excuse the giddiness from my voice. Christian and his cronies floundering as they try to uncover the source pleases me immensely.

Katherine laughs loudly. "Well, let's say that you're husband's head is going to blow off. It is not as if it is not the truth, because it all is, but Grey's boys will be scrambling for whoever let the word get out. Tell me that you blocked your number or used one of those burner phones when you called the Times. It will be bad news if you didn't."

Rolling my eyes once again, I wearily remind her that I am not a complete fucking idiot. "Really, Katherine? Ugh! Like I said, this conversation is over and I will call you soon. Goodbye and I love you."

"I love you, too, Steele."

Ending the call, I inhale deeply and make my way toward an uncomfortable conversation with my long time friend.

As expected, Luke is wide-awake. He is drinking coffee and watching some pre season football shit, but his eyes are on the stairwell before my foot hits the last step. He must have the ears of the Bionic Woman. Wearing a contrite expression, I head to the sofa he is slumped on and flop down beside him without saying anything. I am not sure who should apologize first, but knowing how much I owe this man, I decide to. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I take note that it is six o'clock and I am surprised I was on the phone with Kate for so long.

"Luke, listen… I am sorry for what I accused you of. I wasn't thinking rationally and spoke from a place of hurt feelings and a newfound sense of not trusting…" I begin to say before he interrupts me, shaking his head, and turning his body towards me.

"I should be the one apologizing, Ana," He breathes. "I have no excuse for not telling you other than I did not want to put more stress on you. I royally fucked up and I know it. I understand why you thought that way and do not take it personally. I just hope that you do not doubt my intentions or where my loyalty lies."

The sincerity in his voice and sadness I see in his eyes overwhelms me. I feel like a complete piece of shitty toilet paper and curse myself for allowing Christian's fucked up life cause me to lose trust in those close to me. I simply cannot allow that emotion or my recently consistent anger alienate other's. If there is one trace of Christian Grey left on me once this is all over, it will not turn me into an isolated and pathetic person stuck in a tower in the sky the way he is. I refuse to reduce myself to that level. I am better than that, I am better than Christian is.

"I am not blaming Gail for my abhorrent behavior, but just hearing the things she told me fucked with my head. On top of that, I was mystified at her attitude towards you. Just please accept my apology, Luke and believe me when I say that I do not actually believe you would sell me out. I am so sorry for those terrible things I said and I am so ashamed of myself. I just hope that in time you can forgive me." I softly murmur, acutely embarrassed and looking down at my hands. I am so nervous and guilt ridden over what Luke's response could surely be and my entire body is stiff with an unnamed emotion that leaves me confused.

Several tense moments pass before Luke puts me out of my misery.

"Ana, I cannot fathom any situation between the two of us that would leave me unable to forgive you. I promise that I understand your reaction to all of that shit and I do not hold it against you in the slightest bit. Like I told you before, I am the only one who should be asking for forgiveness and the hope that you will one day understand my stupid thinking," He says. "Please promise me that you can see what our friendship means to me and how happy I am that our lives intersected all those years ago."

Unsure if there is an underlying message behind his words, I raise my head and tentatively smile at him. Sometimes I wonder about the words that Luke says to me and his behavior is always unpredictable. I am always left confused and if I were to always ask myself why, I would no doubt go crazy. Luke places his cup of coffee on the end table and takes hold of both my hands into one of his large hands. His smile and eyes are kind as he offers my hands a soft and reassuring squeeze. I can feel his touch is a sign of encouragement and a promise of solidarity. Acknowledging the message that Luke is giving me, I offer him a similar smile and nod my head.

As I am about to ask him if we have buried this mess, my cell phone rings. It is Christian's ringtone. Luke and I exchange a knowing look; Christian has been told of the mess I purposely caused. Swallowing hard, I pick up my phone and Luke nods at me to answer it. I have no idea how this conversation with Christian will go; there is only one way to know.

"Christian?" I all but whisper, but still answer curtly. I want him to hear it in my voice that I am already aware of why he is calling. Christian obviously recognizes this and exhales deeply before speaking.

"Anastasia, did I wake you?" He asks.

"No Christian, you did not. I have been awake for awhile now." I reply. Just hearing his voice annoys me.

"I have something imperative to speak with you about. Are you somewhere private where we can speak freely?"

Standing up and beginning to pace the living room, I lie to him and say that I am alone in my bedroom. I cannot wait to hear the spin he puts on this story.

"Anastasia, some fucker has caused a pile of bullshit for us to deal with. Someone leaked to the press that we have been living apart," He states evenly. "We have no idea who…"

Deciding to interrupt him for the simple reason that he despises to be interrupted, I cut him off with a smart remark that I know will piss him off. "Christian, that's the truth. Obviously, I do not appreciate my private life being aired to the world, but at least this bit of gossip is the truth."

He has always hated facing the truth. Christian obviously throws something across the room as I hear it splinter into pieces. I imagine a red face full of rage, veins bulging from his neck, and Christian pulling at his hair. What pissed him off more? My interrupting him or pointing out the truth of the matter. I am positive that it is both of these. I may not have known the depth of his depravity and disregard for me, but I have known his idiosyncrasies and what can set him off.

"Yeah, Anastasia, it sure is the fucking truth since you refuse to allow me back in my own home! Whose fucking business is this shit other than ours? Are you not the least bit curious as to who leaked this shit? Doesn't it bother you that we will now be scrutinized by every fucking one?" Christian bellows and I hear something else break. I vaguely recall the Gail is no longer there to clean up his messes and wonder who will do it now.

Sighing, I choose to ignore every word that just flew from his mouth. I aim straight to the idea that another woman is the root of our separation. I grasp for the right words to say, as a child would dig for mud in order to make a mud pie to throw in some little asshole's eye. I realize that nothing I could say will hurt him, although I will take enraging him and finding a way to derive pleasure from that. Truly though, only digging a knife in Christian's back could really bring me pleasure.

"Why haven't you addressed what is being said about you having an affair, Christian?" I ask quietly, returning to the sofa and sitting beside Luke. "I would have preferred to know you were more concerned about that. A faithful husband would be desperate to ease their wife's mind over that bit of information and not the truthful fact that we are not living under the same roof.

Christian sighs so loudly that it feels as though he has touched me through the phone and his breath has brushed against my ear. I shudder at the thought of his touch. When he finally acknowledges what I have said, his tone is quiet and somewhat gentle.

"Mrs. Grey, you of all people should be acutely aware that I am more concerned about that fucking lie. Anastasia, I have never had an affair and I need for you to tell me that you believe that." Christian sounds as if he is actually pleading for me to believe him. I feel like I have been thrown to the floor by his statement.

Initially, his words and tone rattle my insides until I remember something. That first surreal and fucked up night at Escala, when he propositioned me to becoming his submissive, Christian called it a business arrangement. That is why he is telling me that he is not having an affair; Christian probably believes he is not. If he described being his sub is nothing more than a business arrangement, then I am positive that is still his opinion. It is a trade of material possessions for meaningless hard fucks and his sadistic needs of beating women. That does equal a business arrangement. Poor, poor, Christian and what must be his lonely soul.

"I wish that I could tell you that, Christian. I honestly wish I could, although if I did say it, I would be lying to both of us. Don't fool yourself by thinking I have not been blind to the change in you. A change that has surpassed the night of your birthday. I will not mention your behavior since you have been at Escala and the fact you only request my presence when it is needed for a public event. All of those things do more than hint of an affair, Christian."

Saying those words bring up an emotion that leaves me uncomfortable and angry. It takes but a moment until I realize that emotion is how I feel. The truth, discovering it, facing it, and admitting it fucking sucks the blood from your veins and leaves your body panting for hemoglobin to flood back into your body. I feel the prickling of tears at the back of my eyes and I shove them back.

"Are you serious?" He asks incredulously. "Do you truly mean that, Anastasia?"

Christian's response leaves me speechless. Well, not what he said, rather the way he said it, as if he honestly meant it. Christian has once again thrown me under a train and left me behind with mangled limbs. My mind staggers dumbfounded and wondering why he continues to do this me. What is he gaining from any of this shit? Is it for some sort of sick pleasure he gets from attempting to break me? Perhaps the man is just so fucked up he believes that he can do as he pleases and leave anyone in his destructive wake. But then again, I realize that Christian probably really does not consider these submissives as actual affairs.

Shaking my head in a desperate attempt of clearing these sickening questions from my brain, I suddenly take hold of Luke's hand and find that his eyes have never left my face. The anger he is emanating is palatable and I recognize his strength and how much I need it. This positive and protective nature Luke has for me is what allows those tears to fill my eyes.

"Anastasia, please answer me. Did you mean what you said?" He breathes. "Do you think so little of me?"

Christian has blown me away by asking me that and it drives me to place the call on speakerphone so Luke can hear this bullshit. He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees. The entire living room feels like it could explode at any second. I glare at the phone.

"Yes, Christian. I meant every word that I said. You have left me no room to feel any other way," My words spoken through gritted teeth. "If you loved me, a lot of things would be different, starting with how you have treated me."

Christian's attitude suddenly changes. "How the fuck have I treated you, Anastasia? Because the way I see it, you have been treated like a queen for several years now!" He yells at me and I see Luke's face harden.

"You've treated me like a queen? Are you serious, Christian? Let me throw out one example of how you humiliated me in front of not only your parents, but also your team of GEH employees! Do you recall that lovely night of your birthday? Huh? Hell, Christian, you treated me like shit on the bottom of your Italian custom made shoes…" My raised voice has brought Ray into the room and he looks as furious as Luke does.

"Oh, come on. Mrs. Grey, the only person who humiliated you was you. Having the nerve to come downstairs a drunken mess and embarrass me? Those men were not just GEH employees, they were a part of my legal team and I am sure that they now assume that I am married to a goddamn drunk! Not just a fucking drunk, but also a spoiled and ungrateful drunk! Fuck!" He is now screaming at me.

The shock on my face must look as deep as the carved out faces of the Presidents on Mount Rushmore. Ray is rubbing his face with his hands and I see Angela exit their bedroom and wrap her arms around his waist. Luke has not moved an inch.

"I was drunk because I had just discovered my supposed loving husband had been lying to me for years and was supporting his long time child molester," I say softly. "And give me one example of how I have ever been spoiled or ungrateful. Dig around in your fucked up mind and give me an example. I am dying to hear it."

"Really, Anastasia? You want the fucking numerous examples? How about the fact that I have showed you the world! On the other hand, could it be the fucking millions of dollars of jewelry that I have given you? The balance in our bank account? Is that enough? No… let me goddamn continue! What about the home I bought you and then fucking put in your name? Perhaps the company that you are the CEO of that has made you a goddamn millionaire! Every one of those examples as you called them, come down on you being married to me, Anastasia! You need to fucking consider what and where you would be if you had never met me! I doubt that it would be much!" He spits his venomous words at me.

I bend over at the waist and nearly fall off the sofa. If not for Luke, I would have hit the floor. Ray has rushed to us and tries to grab my phone, but Luke shakes his head no. Just when I thought that Christian Grey could not be any more vicious and cruel, I discover that I am wrong. Surely, minutes pass before I am able to respond and we all sit and listen to Christian. It sounds like he is breaking his surroundings apart. I find my strength lying in the mountain of disgust that I have for Christian.

"What would I be, Christian? I would be happy."

Maybe my retort was not what he was expecting from me and he says nothing. I just cannot sit here and take his abuse and insults. I refuse to take it any longer.

"You knew from the very beginning that I wasn't interested in your wealth. You bought the house on the Sound by lying to me that it was where we would raise our family. You lied about wanting a family and I know you never want one. As far as the house, I never asked you to put it in my name. As for the publishing house…you bought the damn place long before we even really knew one another, and do not doubt that I have always known you did it as a way to get to me. You looked at me as nothing more than your prey and you practically strong-armed me into becoming the CEO after you changed the name to Grey Publishing. I never aspired to running a company and you know it. If you consider me spoiled and ungrateful for forcing me to become the CEO of GP and the earnings I have, I will be happy to give you every cent of that money. Just promise me that you will shove it up your ass."

If Christian was breathing and growling into the phone any harder, he would hyperventilate. I am waiting to see if he addresses or concedes to every word of truth I have just reminded him of. He doesn't.

"I want you back in Seattle today. Get your shit ready and Luke will bring you straight to Grey House." He says.

Honestly not being able to stop myself, I break out in laughter.

"Why should I? So we can be seen publically, probably dining at an upscale restaurant. Then we can walk hand in hand tomorrow morning? Don't worry, Christian. This meaningless situation is nothing but a blip on the radar and no one really gives a fuck. Stop worrying about losing money over it and leave me the hell out of it. I am going to have to deal with my end of the bullshit and refuse to partner up with you to shine up your image."

"Goddamn you, Anastasia…"

Luke suddenly stands up and walks to Ray. They stare at one another in silence and I assume are sharing murderous thoughts.

"No, goddamn you, Christian. I will come back to Seattle when I damn well please. Oh, one other thing you should take seriously. If you do not call back your second goon that followed Luke to Ray's, my dad is going to go outside and shoot him in the ass. That, or call the police on him for trespassing. Goodbye, Christian."

Ending the call, the four of us stand in silence and stare at one another. I realize that Ray and Angela are shocked at the discovery of who Christian Grey truly is. To them, he was always courteous and polite and always demonstrated love and affection for me. Truth…truth is a slimy mold no one wants to swallow. I smile weakly at them, and head upstairs to my old bedroom and shut the door behind me. Tossing myself on the bed, I stare at the ceiling and remind myself that I am nothing Christian described me as. I know who I am. I know who Christian is. I know the truth.

Thirty minutes later, there is a knock on the door and I call out for them to come in. I have no desire to get up. Luke walks in, still looking pissed off and holding an iPad.

I crinkle up my face at the iPad and try to make this upcoming conversation light.

"Don't tell me you brought that up here to play Angry Birds?" I say, lightheartedly.

Luke's mouth twitches as he tries not to smile and he looks around my room. Against each wall is a packed bookshelf. He shakes his head and laughs.

"You were a book nerd your whole life, I see."

"I proudly admit that I was thank you very much," I reply, laughing with him. "What's with the iPad? You have got it for a reason."

"May I sit down?" He asks. I roll my eyes and nod at his ridiculous question.

"Are you okay? That was probably the most brutal verbal attack I have ever heard. I have been downstairs talking Ray out of going to kill Grey."

"Eh, am I okay? I guess so, although I will not lie or disagree that it was brutal. Shit, it was vicious. I know better though. Christian is purely a self-centered human being and I am nothing but a pawn in his life. That is his problem though, and not mine. Now, what's up with you and Steve Jobs?" I ask, pointing my chin to the iPad.

"Well, I am just going to lay this on the line. From the very beginning of this, I have been confused as to why you have focused your energy and anger on Mrs. Declan and Miss Sams. I kept from delving into your motivation because I did not want to upset you further. But Kate and I have both discussed something several times and wondered why you don't seem to care about the other three subs that Grey had." He says this carefully, as if he is afraid of how I will react once he has told me what I assume he is about to share with me.

"Go ahead, Luke. I promise that I will not turn into Linda Blair from The Exorcist this time," I say softly. "I am actually quite excited to see what that iPad is going to show me."

He looks relieved before he continues. "Remember you promised, Ana. That goes to Kate, as well." Whatever Frick and Frack have done, Luke seems genuinely amused by it. My expression tells him to hurry the fuck up and tell me.

"Kate kept asking me if you had ever elaborated on your intense focus on those two specific women and not the others. We know we have never had that conversation and I could not give Kate an answer, which as you can guess pissed her off. Fuck all this; I will get to what I know you want to hear. We took it upon ourselves to give Kennedy, Garner, and Lawson their just desserts. We all know Grey's preferred bank to use for his subs, so it was not hard for…Well, don't worry who gained accessed to their accounts," He pauses. "To put it simply, their accounts were drained of every cent the way Declan's was, and deposited into that dummy account created for you."

Luke looks at me warily and then swipes the iPad to open. He had already logged into my bogus account, hands me the iPad and I look at the balance. I whistle through my teeth and meet his eyes.

"Shit, Luke! That is a lot of money. When was this done?"

"Last night."

We do not say anything for a few seconds as I acclimate to this information and I suppose Luke is waiting if I am going to keep my promise of not spewing evil green vomit all over him. Finally breaking the silence, I engulf the silence with a fit of giggles.

"This is classic! What a fantastic idea, Luke! Was it yours or my dog with a bone best friend?" I am barely able to ask him through my laughter.

"I can proudly say that it was my idea, although it was Kate's idea to actually close their accounts after the money was taken out of them."

"Holy, fuck! Like I said, this is wonderful, but Luke, I really cannot explain why I became fixated on the other two. Maybe because Declan was first and Sams is the current one. Hell, I don't know." I reply.

Luke nods and I see that he understands what I am saying, and then he clears his throat, getting my full attention.

"There is a tad more to tell you," He chuckles. "I suppose I should not be laughing until I let you know what we came up with next."

"There is more? Can it top this shit?"

His answering grin has me bouncing on the bed like a four-year-old.

"How can I put this? Let me just say that the SPD is currently investigating the theft of three red Audi's."

Screaming loudly, I throw my arms around Luke and nearly knock him over. His lingering return hug does not go unnoticed. I pull away, gaping at what they did.

"You had their cars towed?" I ask.

He shakes his head, smiling.

"Ah…If you consider someone breaking into cars and stealing them as being towed away, I guess you could say that."

"Am I evil for enjoying this? I really think that I am. No…No I am not. Why should they enjoy that shit? If they were unaware of his marital status, I would see all of this in a different light. However, they did know and traded a moral conscious for monetary gain. Fuck them."

"Yup. Fuck them." Luke replies, mirth dancing in his eyes.

Our moment of reveling in causing trouble in the lives of Christian's whores ceases when Luke's phone rings. I know it is Taylor by the way Luke's jaw clenches.

"T, what's up?"

God, I hate listening to a one sided conversation. This one causes Luke to stand and go look out the window. I can see Luke's tension just by looking at his back, he has squared his shoulders, and his Deltoid's are taught, the fleeting appreciation of how attractive he is even from behind floats through my mind and I forget that I am trying to figure out what Luke is talking about with Taylor.

"She says no and that she is visiting her father." How friendly Luke can still be toward Taylor is amazing. He rubs the back of his neck and appears as if he is becoming agitated.

"T, short of throwing Mrs. Grey over my shoulder and stuffing her in the SUV, she will not be returning to Seattle today and I am pretty sure that Mr. Steele would shoot me if I tried to do that."

Taylor must be barking orders because the knuckles on the hand Luke has on his neck are turning white.

"I suggest that not occur. Mr. Steele has read several of the articles online and we had the misfortune of catching a clip of it on that morning gossip show. He is not a happy camper. No, Jason…Mr. Steele does not appear open to speaking with his son-in-law."

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at that understatement. Are those men out of their minds?

"I will talk to Mrs. Grey again, but do not expect a miracle. Oh, and another thing you need to handle. Call and tell Wilson to head back to Seattle. Well, for one thing, he is not needed and another reason is that Mr. Steele is threatening to either shoot him or call the police on him for trespassing. We both know that the boss would not want the attention of either of those occurrences."

My phone alerts me that I have a new text. It is Kate telling me that she is on her way to Montesano and saying that it will look highly unusual if she does not come to support her best friend as she would if this was not actually all made up. Her text and my reply have distracted me from Luke and Taylor's conversation and I do not realize that their call is over. Glancing up, Luke is staring at me and before I have the chance to barrage him with questions, my own phone rings. Son of a bitch. It's Carrick. I am so tongue tied that I cannot tell Luke who it is, so I show him the caller ID. He barely nods for me to answer.

I assumed it would be Grace that would call me. All morning…I waited for Grace to call me. Carrick calling unnerves me. Before the third ring, I take a huge gulp of air and exhale slowly. Fuck.

"Hello?"

"Oh, Ana…My dear Ana." He says softly.

"Hi, Carrick. How are you?"

"No…How are you? Katherine tells us that you went to Ray's last night," He states. "She told Grace that she is heading your way…I take that to mean that you…"

I inwardly groan at the question Carrick was about to ask. As much as it pains me, after Christian's cruelty over the telephone, I see no reason to allow any of this to linger on.

"Yes, Carrick," I sigh. "I have read it and I saw it on television."

He must not know how to respond, which I find strange considering Carrick is an attorney. The silence between us is heavy and burdened with questions. Questions that I will never answer truthfully. Christian is their child and should rightfully come before me, no matter what he has done. Yes, I love them and they love me; but I will not place a wedge between them. There is a very real chance that Christian will replace the wedge he had between them when I first met him; but that will be on his shoulders.

"Ana, we are mortified that your personal life has been made public. Grace is absolutely heartbroken, she has been since Christian is still living at Escala," He mutters through choked up words. "Yes, we all admit to wishing we knew the actual reason he hasn't returned home." He pauses. "I have never told Grace what I think that reason may be...although I will tell you that Elliot shares my opinion. Kate assures Elliot this is over that horrible woman and I am aware that as your best friend, she would not break your trust. But Ana, you sweet, sweet girl; forgive me for asking you this…"

Shaking my head as to clear away the reality that is my life, I remember something that Dr. Swann imparted upon me at our last session. "Ana, if you look at Christian and truly see nothing other than retribution, you have to put your actions in a bubble. You cannot allow any action seep out of the bubble and injure an innocent party. Think of your situation as walking a tightrope. One missed step will end up in disaster."

I am holding onto the phone with a trembling hand while Luke sits beside me clutching the other. Surely if I clench my eyes hard enough this will all cease to exist and I will return to that younger version of myself and ignored that fucking invitation to The Mile High Club. However, right this moment, I have to push through this conversation. Cards to the vest, sticking as close to the truth as possible. Stick with the same story and do not stray from it. Wash and repeat, Ana. Wash and repeat.

"Carrick, it is fine to ask and there is no reason for you to ask for forgiveness. Everyone wants to know why Christian and I are separated. I know that and I understand why. At each of our weekly lunches, I have seen Grace and Mia pleading with their eyes for me to explain. I know that Christian has not explained anything either. But that is neither here nor there and you want an answer concerning what these articles are insinuating…"

"Darling, they are more than insinuating that Christian is having an affair. To quote a source that claims they have witnessed my son entering and leaving Escala with a brunette woman that is not you are not an insinuation." He says.

There is that complicated question-or definition, rather. Affair. Earlier on the phone with Lucifer himself, I recognized the difference between an affair and what Christian described to me as a business arrangement. If I believe that Christian does not see his infidelities as affairs, then I can answer Carrick's question and not be a complete asshole liar.

"I don't know if Christian is having an affair, Carrick." I mutter and sigh deeply. "A love affair is not the reason Christian never came back home."

I have just told the truth.

"Ana, I know that we have told you numerous times what you mean to us. How grateful our family is that you brought Christian back to us. I am not going to meddle any further, I just want you to know how much we love you," He breathes into the phone. "Just remember that I never want to see you hurt, Ana, and that is even by my son."

Carrick's emotional confession leaves me unbalanced. Long past the point of being able to stop them, tears spring from my eyes. Weeping copiously, Luke squeezes my hand tighter, and I hear Carrick saying something to me, although I have no capacity to understand what it is. The queen of words cannot articulate a sentence, Carrick's voice is barely audible, and I am completely blinded by a rainstorm in my eyes. If this is how I exit the Grey family, I am not sure that I will survive.

"Dear girl, stop crying. Stop, now. Hush. Are you alone? You should not be alone right now." He says.

It takes a deep and calming breath, along with gazing at Luke to settle me down.

"No. Luke is here and my dad and Angela are downstairs. I am fine and Kate will be here later on. Please tell Grace not to worry and that I am all right. You and Grace go see and speak with Christian. I know that he needs you."

"Grace has spoken to him and was surprised by his reaction. I did not like how he spoke to his mother and went to Grey House to talk to my son face to face."

Now Carrick sounds angry and while I wonder what in the hell Christian did to earn his father's ire, I do not have the energy to ask or to even speculate. What could I say anyway? Oh, hey. Your son is a sociopathic fuck up who should probably seek psychiatric treatment and is not selfish spreading his venom to anyone who crosses his path. How could Grace and Carrick ever really come to grips with their son's blackened mind and not blame themselves? No parent could.

"I will let you keep that conversation private and not pry. Just tell everyone that I am fine and will probably stay and visit my dad for a few more days and when I get back to Seattle, I will come to Bellevue first thing. Okay? Don't worry, Carrick."

He sighs loudly and pauses before answering. Carrick is too astute to be blinded by my bullshit. His profession is to judge people by their behavior and their carefully chosen words. He does not believe one word I have said. Carrick sees right through me and we both know it.

"Ana, you aren't on a witness stand nor have you sworn under oath and I cannot cross examine you. In addition, I would never do that. Just know that you do not have to make a comment on what I am going to say, okay?"

I cannot keep from rudely sniffing snot over the telephone. "Yes."

"I know Christian. Before you and after you. I will not draw a map to when, how, or why, but I see the signs, Ana. I believe what they are writing is the truth and so does Elliot." He says quietly. "I know you will not answer me, and although I don't quite understand why not, I respect your decision. I also see the signs in you, the changes in you, the changes between you and my son. I will not ask you, Ana. But I know it is so."

With all of the strength I possess, I cannot manipulate it enough to tell him the truth. I know how easy it would be to confirm it all, yet I cannot say the words. I have yet to decide whom it is that I am protecting, the Grey's, or myself. Christian can fend for himself. Therefore, even if I cannot use words to admit anything, I can be a chicken shit and answer him with silence. And my silence is his answer-he hears it loud and clear.

"Alright, Ana. I will tell Grace and let us know when you are heading home. Kate left Ava for Grace to watch, but she is bringing the baby with her. Try to relax with her and everything will be fine. I will see to it, I promise."

What does that comment mean? Carrick will see to what? Why couldn't Christian be a normal man that does have an affair with another woman and I wouldn't have turned to clandestine behavior and have to speak in tongues to keep other people from seeing Christian as he is? Why couldn't I hate my in-laws so I could out Christian to the world? No, why could I have just never met him?

_**Friday, August 28th-Monday, August 31st, 2015**_

The weekend is spent in a relative cloud of calm. Taylor called Wilson back to Seattle leaving Luke on his own. Taylor and Christian must have taken Luke at his word when he said my dad was itching to shoot someone in the ass. Kate arrived with Emma Grace on Friday afternoon and the precious baby has been passed from one set of arms to the next. From long walks in the familiar woods surrounding my childhood home with Ray, to Kate offering to help cook dinner and the rest of us screaming "No!" whenever she brought it up. Christian never calls me back, although Taylor practically harasses Luke with constant questions over my actions and questions as to when I am returning to Seattle. The only private time that Kate, Luke, and I can carve out to discuss my current situation is when we make our way to the little pier over dad's private pond. While Kate receives a high five for her and Luke's clandestine actions, humor over knowing this is the home stretch remains absent. There is nothing to be happy about in this clusterfuck. Am I happier than I was back in April? Of course, I am. Do I breathe easier than I did in May? Sleep more than three hours a night in June? Laugh a lot less bitterly than in July? Yes. Yes. Yes. Now there is September. October. November. December...The rest of my life.

Dr. Swann shocks the hell out of me when she calls me early Saturday evening. While we have avoided turning on a television or reading a gossip loaded website, obviously Dr. Swann has not. I go sit on the front porch to answer her call, feeling four sets of eyes on my back and knowing they are all wondering who is calling me.

"Ana, how are you? I have not been able to escape hearing mention of your name and wanted to check on you. I have been concerned."

"Hello, Dr. Swann. Thank you for calling me. I am well, spending some time in Montesano at my dad's. Katherine is with me as well."

"I'm pleased to hear that you have surrounded yourself with a solid support system. Then again, I assumed that you had. Is your stay planned to be extended?" She asks. "I am sure you will not want to be hounded by the paparazzi like Mr. Grey is."

"No... Not extended. We are coming back to Seattle on Monday morning. My dad and Angela are also coming."

Classical music is softly floating behind Dr. Swann. She is probably at home. I remember that she told me she loved to play classical piano. The thought sours my stomach as I remember that Christian does as well.

"Hmmm. I am pleased, very pleased to hear that. Dare I ask if your mother has called you since your personal life is now on public display?"

I scoff at the mention of Carla. "Of course, not." I reply. "I never expected that to happen anyway. If she ever hears the words "lump settlement" she will probably call me, which contact would be for a hand out though."

"You don't believe she has any loving or motherly feelings for you whatsoever, Ana?" She asks me.

"Dr. Swann, you know the answer to that question and so do I."

"I assume that you will make your appointment this coming week, Ana? I'm sure you have a lot to talk about and will need to process."

She irritates the living fuck out of me, but Dr. Swann is one smart cookie. She knows this public onslaught is my doing. I cannot keep myself from sighing.

"Yes, I will be there, Dr. Swann. I look forward to it." I reply.

"Goodbye, Ana. Be gentle with yourself."

For whatever reason, kindness from others always brings tears that I have to swallow back.

"I will. Goodbye, Dr. Swann."

Continuing to feel my body sway back and forth on the front porch swing, I mentally go through the rolodex of the upcoming days and weeks. I recall how flawlessly Luke cared for me inside the parking garage at Escala, although I refuse to allow my thoughts to drift back to those initial days of darkness and pain. I look to that day ahead of me. What does Kate refer to it as? Yes, a day of shock and awe. I prefer the day of reckoning.

_**Monday, August 31st, 2015**_

Emma Grace's car seat in nestled between Kate and me in the back of the Audi SUV that is being commandeered by Luke. Jiggling her keys in front of her, feeling Kate's steady gaze on my face, I glance out the window and notice we are entering into Thurston County. Luke called Tom to pick up Ray and Angela and they are following us as we make our way back to Seattle in Kate's Mercedes. Kate had a mascara disaster and pushed our departure back by nearly an hour. It is mornings like these that I remember living with her and having to put up with Kate's daily drama and being grateful that she is now in Elliot's hands.

I finally let Kate get her way and meet her steady gaze. Her eyebrows are raised and her emerald eyes are doing that creepy thing that has freaked me out since I was eighteen-years-old.

"What is it, Kate?"

"It is exactly ten o'clock in the morning and I want to know why you haven't made use of your cellular device to call the law firm of Darlington, Kendall, and Colter." She replies. "You have to call now if you are going to tell…"

"Katherine, I know and for your information, I was moments from doing so. I have a million things on my mind right now and I was trying to distract myself by being a key rattler and your daughter seemed to be enjoying it."

My attempt to sound snarky failed miserably, the proof being Luke's laughter from the front seat.

Kate takes a deep breath and takes hold of my hand, squeezing it tightly. She has the tiniest of smiles on her lips, but while I know it is from pure and honest caring, it is also from sympathy, which pisses me off. I need sugar for my coffee and milk for my tea, but keep your sympathy to yourself. I do not want it, need it, nor do I care for it. I don't give a shit who you are or how much I may love you.

I shake my head at her in reproach. She knows me, hell, she fucking knows me too well. Kate knows how I am about being made to feel like a charity case. I did not want to borrow her short dresses to wear to bars in college, she pushed them on me, and now I do not want a smile of sympathetic pity. I should not have to sit here and remind her of the fundamental bones of my being.

"Don't." I say. I sound harsher than intended.

"I am not doing what I know you think I am," She whispers. "I just do not know what to do for you. It is not a sense of not knowing how to help you ass rape Grey. It is that I do not know how to help heal your heart. I am lost when it comes to doing that. I feel helpless."

The fact that Kate is now crying adds another emotion to my annoyance. Guilt. Guilt that she cares so much for me that she is actually hurting in her own way as I am in mine. Shouldn't I feel warm and fuzzy about that? Fucking hell. What do I know anymore? What do any of us know anymore? We know that Christian is a horrible person. We know that Taylor is dog shit on my shoe and left Gail devastated. We know that Katherine has been lying to Elliot since April. Kate and I know that Luke never stops acting like a weirdo. We know that Elena Lincoln molested Christian for six years and is now serving twenty years in prison. We know that Carrick and Grace know about it and now we know our entire family wants answers about Christian and me. Then you have me; getting wrapped up with an old boyfriend who fucked me in the ass when we were in college. What in the hell is going on? What in the hell has happened? Oh, yes. Christian Grey happened.

"Don't cry, Kate. We have cried enough to last five lifetimes and it is time that we stopped. Promise that you know that I am fine...did you hear me? I am fine and will only get better. The only thing you have to do is be here for me. Just grab my elbow if my legs wobble or fucking tell me I have snot running down my face. That is all that I need. Kate, all I need is you."

Tears are running down our cheeks and our connected eyes are open and honest. Blue beseeches green to believe them and they do. Whatever fucked up bullshit that just went down passes by and our expressions are full of resolve. Kate says nothing and that is the answer that I needed.

Taking out my cellular device as Kate referred to it, I search my contacts for Allison Kendall's direct office number. We have not spoken for over a week and when we did, she was not exactly happy with my lack of action. Allison spoke plainly when she replayed Bee Darlington's chagrin on the matter. Needless to say, they both saw my sudden vacillation as outright mutiny on their instructions. I had patiently listened to their advice and recommendations, but I told them from the beginning that this was ultimately my decision and they had reluctantly agreed.

"Allison Kendall, speaking,"

"Good morning, Allison. This is Ana Grey. How are you?"

Katherine surprises me. She would usually hang on to every word I say while I am on the phone. This time she is looking everywhere but at me and playing with Emma Grace.

"Hello, Ana. I am well and shouldn't I be asking how you are? So how are you?" She asks.

I cannot control laughing at her. Allison knows better than to ask that question.

"Good...I am good. I am on my way back to Seattle. I spent a few days at my dad's. Kate came down on Friday and we had a quiet weekend," I reply. "Ray and Angela are coming to Seattle with me."

"Well, from what is going on up in Seattle, don't expect anything to be quiet. Have you been following any of that shit?"

"There hasn't been a need to," I snort. "I did catch a bit on TV. and read a few online stories. Not to mention an unpleasant phone conversation with Christian."

"He called you? I'm sure it was Friday morning when the story came out." She replies.

"Yes, he called to order me back to Seattle. Seems he wanted us to walk hand in hand through downtown Seattle. I refused, and he turned into Satan, actually admitting what he thought of me. He informed me I would be nothing if not for him."

Allison sighs deeply, remaining silent and I hear the wheels in her head spinning.

"That bad, huh? What a sweetheart." Allison murmurs. "Ana, you know what he said isn't true, right?"

Of course, I do. Did Christian's truthful opinions about me hurt? I would be a liar if I said that they did not. Who in the hell wouldn't they have hurt? Hurt. Strike back. Strike back. Hurt. Hurt. Strike back. The dust clears and we find out who is left standing.

"I know, Allison. I didn't let it throw me for a loop for too long, but I had to shake it off. I was actually grateful to hear it. Knowledge is power, isn't it?" I ask quietly.

Kate finally turns her head to look at me with blazing emerald eyes. I assume being reminded of Christian's words has incensed her all over again.

"Naturally...now this is not a social call or you wouldn't have called me at work. Tell me where we are at," She says. "I need that powerful knowledge of yours."

"It's time."

Kate grabs my hand in a death grip. Emma Grace is in an innocent and deep sleep that I am jealous of. Luke glances at me in the rearview mirror.

"Alright. I have questions first. Did you reconsider and do what Bee and I suggested?"

"No."

My life. My choice. My final decision. No explanation required. No explanation given. Allison does not react.

"Okay, we have what you provided. You will have the rest, I trust. She asks.

"Yes. Copies will be provided before hand, although the final information will be handed over on the day of." My voice is strong, like the CEO I am. Not the one Christian Grey says he fucking allowed me to be. "The deed?"

"Don't worry about that. That is completely insignificant. We will have it filed in King County the day before we all meet. I seriously doubt that Grey has someone standing in the courthouse waiting to discover if the property's ownership has changed. We will have the actual legal document showing that you own it that day." She replies.

I nod my head as though Allison can see me.

"This is nothing important; I'm just sharing it since I know you'll get a kick out of it. Three other bank accounts have had funds emptied and transferred, along with three Audi's that have been relocated."

Allison bursts into laughter. Kate smiles proudly. She must be able to hear Allison through the phone.

"No, shit? You know I always wondered your lack of interest when it came to them." She says.

Again, as if she can see through the phone, I shrug my shoulders. Shit, everyone was puzzled by that.

"Who knows, Allison? Blame it on initial shock or being too lazy to go to the trouble. This action was courtesy of Kate and Luke. I was oblivious."

Luke is chuckling, Kate reaches over the car seat and kisses me, but I am worried I missed something to say or ask Allison.

"It is time for the do or die question, Ana."

Oh, yes. That is what I had forgotten.

"Tomorrow."

_Seattle, Washington_

The drive is relatively silent. Ray chose to ride shotgun and I assume his decision was to hold his emotions in check and sitting beside me would make that harder than it already is. Angela has held my hand the entire way and as we move further down the I-405, her grip increases. I have not averted my eyes from the back of Luke's head.

Kate and Emma Grace reclaimed her Mercedes once we were back in Seattle. I slid into her backseat and we had a long and emotional conversation that culminated with her calling Carrick to assemble the entire family sans Christian. Kate told me that Carrick inhaled deeply when she asked that the family not mention the gathering to his middle child. Carrick told her to reassure me of their love, in other words; he knew. Luke and Tom had decided to trade vehicles inside a parking garage where another of my goons for hire, Samuel, picked Tom up. Maybe it was because we were in a parking garage, but inside Kate's car, I found myself re calling that day at Escala. Why Kate wept as I retold the devastating details and I spoke in a monotone voice will forever be a mystery. I had a stupid feeling that this nightmare began in a parking garage and it is ending in a parking garage. The only good thing that may end after the disaster that is Christian Grey will be my relationship with two people I consider as parents, and two people that I consider as siblings. If I am lucky, perhaps they will understand. If I am not, hopefully I will have left them a handful of good memories.

I had reserved the Cascade Suite at the Fairmont under Ray's name. It is huge and has plenty of room for all of us. I know that hiding from the paps or any press will be futile, but I am going to do my best to stay in the shadows of Seattle. Any contact with Christian, whether it be accidental or not is another thing I will avoid like the plague. I will be damned if he sticks another security dog on my ass. If that fuck up happens to occur, Luke will know immediately, since two of my own have been trailing us since we entered the Seattle city limits.

Not giving a shit about my appearance, I did not bother changing clothes and I am still wearing an old WSUV sweatshirt that had been Riley's, jeans, and a pair of black Chucks. I look nothing like a woman who should be entering a mansion in Bellevue. Wanting to puke, cry, and slit Christian Grey's throat, I gaze at the home of Carrick and Grace as Luke pulls into the driveway. It appears as every light in the house is on and I notice that someone has turned on the front porch light, possibly for me, and if so, it would have been Grace.

No, tears. Yes, tears. Of course, tears.

As the norm, Grace and Carrick are standing in the doorway to greet us. At first glance, the smile on their faces appear genuinely happy, but the closer I get to them, I can see that they are telling me to relax. Wrapping me in a warm hug, Grace strokes the back of my head and I nearly break down. Then I am in the gentle arms of my father-in-law who whispers that everything will turn out fine. There is no doubt as to why Carrick is such a well-respected attorney. In his own subtle way, he has once again told me that he knows why we are here. After they greet my dad and Angela, we follow Grace and Carrick into the family room where Elliot, Kate, and Mia are gathered.

Angela and I sit on a sofa beside Kate. I have somehow ended up between them and I have a feeling it was intentional. Grace sinks into her favorite wing back chair that directly faces us and Mia is in the floor playing with Emma Grace. She got up and hugged each of us before returning her attention to the baby. It is obvious Mia does not have the slightest bit of curiosity as to why we are here, and has not asked why Christian is not. Ray and Carrick have poured themselves a drink and remain at the wet bar. Elliot is standing near the patio doors and is holding Ava. We are all looking everywhere but at each other. The only sounds are coming from Ava and the baby. Grace finally breaks the silence. It is only now that I notice her red-rimmed eyes.

"I won't ask if you all enjoyed your weekend. Kate told me it was wonderful. Angela, she raved about your cooking. I think she was trying to make me jealous." She says jokingly.

Uncomfortable laughter wafts through the room and Angela indulges Grace with chit chat over recipes. Through the corner of my eye, I see Elliot looking at me the way he has every time we have been around each other these past weeks. Suspicious and curious. Mainly suspicious. I am not surprised though, Carrick did tell me that Elliot shared his opinion about Christian. Assuming his expression means that he will be the one to address the elephant in the room, I am shocked at who finally does.

"I want to thank you for allowing us to speak to you as a family and I appreciate your understanding why Annie needed us to come along." Ray says; his tone is steady and calm.

"Absolutely, Ray. We adore your Ana, and think of you and Angela as family as well. Never feel the need to thank us for anything," Carrick replies. "We're thrilled to see you."

Watching Grace, I see something my dad or Carrick said lit a spark in her mind. She glances back at them and then slowly turns her attention my way. Of course, Grace knew about the articles and television gossip. She knows that Christian still lives at Escala. Although, I have just witnessed Grace's mind drift to what she probably thought were mere rumors of her youngest son having an affair. I can see that Grace is now wondering if those supposed rumors are why we are here. I think the penny just dropped and is rolling around the floor.

"Ana, dear. We are all so very sorry about this public…" Grace begins.

Shaking my head, I smile at her, but within seconds, my eyes are filling with tears. She makes the short distance between us and grabs me fiercely.

"I know it's a mess right now and will take a few weeks to go away, but we all know how things like this are. They are front page one day and gone the next. It is going to be all right, Ana. Do not cry, sweet girl. Hush now."

Although, when pulling away, Grace studies my face, eyes searching for something. What? A clue? A hint? The truth?

"Gracie, sit back down, dear. Ana is good. Let's not upset her further," Carrick says. "There is no need for that, darling."

Grace sits back down, but her initial confusion morphs into rebelling against what Carrick said to her. Everyone in this goddamn room, minus Mia, know something is amiss, whether it be my name being drug through the mud or truth over Christian and his supposed mystery affair. There is that word again-affair. What a fucking joke.

"I agree, Carrick. I would never upset Ana. I am also many things, but stupid or deaf is neither of them. I heard something off in your voice and in Ray's, now I want to hear what that something was. I also want to know why my daughter-in-law looks torn to bits," She utters. "Not to mention a family meeting was requested and we are missing one member of our family."

Grace is standing and has turned around to face her husband and my father. Ray's eyes never leave mine, as though he is telling me to stay strong, or at least to not fall over into Kate's lap. Carrick is accepting Grace's stern and demanding words and attitude, although he has not opened his mouth. Is he waiting on me to say it? Of course, he must be. They all are waiting on me to say it. Now that this moment has finally arrived, can I actually say it?

Evidently, Mia's mind has left the Emma Grace zone. When her mother mentioned that a family member was absent, she finally sat up Indian style and is gazing around the room as if she just now noticed what was going on. Or rather, what is not going on.

Carrick maneuvers his way to stand in front of his wife, placing a hand on both of her shoulders. For some odd reason, I remember that he was just holding a drink. Looking to the wet bar, I see that his glass is empty. Yes, Carrick, this moment does call for slamming back bourbon.

Carrick is about to speak, when all of a sudden Mia decides to join the party, annoyingly so.

"Yeah, where is Christian? I was wondering that a minute ago when I saw Ana. Where is he, Ana? I cannot even get him to answer my calls or return my texts. What's up with that, anyway?" She asks.

It is now Mia's turn to look at me strangely, but she shrugs her shoulders when no one answers her and then enters the Mia zone.

"You look cute, Ana! Just like a college student. Is that your old sweatshirt from WSUV? I would have lost mine years ago. Are those Chucks new…?"

"MIA! Be quiet!" Elliot bellows, making everyone jump.

Kate quickly grabs my hand, which I take as an ominous sign. Kate has dodged Elliot's questions since Christian's birthday, and from the way she is gripping my fingers, she believes that her husband is about to start demanding answers.

"Elliot Grey, I never want to hear you yell at your sister again, much less while you are holding your daughter! Now apologize to Mia this instant!" Grace says.

Elliot is shaking his head, his face flushed and he is walking further into the family room.

"I apologize, Mia. It won't happen again."

His sister just blows it off. However, I do not care about sibling bullshit right now. I am strategically looking in my lap so my hair covers the sides of my face. After all, if you cannot see them, then they cannot see you. Despite ducking beneath my long and dark tresses, I know that Elliot is walking to me and before I have time to look up, he has knelt down between my legs. The questions linger in his eyes, although his face is kind and he is giving me a half-hearted version of that mega watt Elliot Grey grin. All eyes have focused on us, and Carrick, along with Ray, have moved closely behind Elliot. Not because I might need protecting from Elliot, but for my possible melt down.

"Ana Banana, I want to say a few things to you, to remind you that we love you and you are family. You are my second sister, half of the reason I met Kate, and the Godmother to my daughter. I love you and I always will. There is nothing or anyone on the planet who could replace you. Do you believe that?" He asks softly.

Do I believe it? I know that I want to believe it. Kate tells me to believe it. Carrick tells me to believe it. Nevertheless, do I believe it? I look in Elliot's eyes and finally see the truth.

"Yes, El. I believe that."

Vaguely, I realize Elliot's hand has replaced Katherine's. He uses his other hand to push my hair behind my ears in a move that is so reminiscent of his younger brother. Elliot smiles at me; clearly trying to urge me to say what he knows. I stay quiet, so he changes tactics.

"When was the last time you spoke to your husband?" He asks.

"Elliot, seriously? Is that any of our business? Ana, don't answer him." Kate says.

Elliot pays her no heed. His question has left me reeling with questions of my own. Where did this question arise from and what is he attempting to derive from it? Oh, what the hell. Answer them honestly, Ana. Leave a trail of breadcrumbs that will never lead anywhere. Christian has been shutting them all out since Friday, why would they assume he was treating me any different? My, God. We do not even live together.

"Friday morning."

Grace gasps loudly, Mia's eyebrows shoot to her forehead and everyone else's posture has become ramrod straight. It is Elliot whose eyes are burning with anger.

"He's ignoring me as well, but not speaking to you is...confusing. What did the two of you talk about on Friday?"

"Jesus Christ, Elliot! When did you go to law school? Quit interrogating her and let her be. Look at Ana; does she appear eager to share personal information at the moment?" Carrick shouts.

Raising my eyes to meet Carrick's, I shake my head slightly to let him know that I am all right.

"Honestly? Christian ordered me to come back to Seattle."

"Ordered you?" Mia murmurs quietly. "Do you mean that he asked you after that story came out?"

Shaking my head that feels too heavy for my shoulders, I sigh. "No, Mia. It was an order."

Elliot tugs on my hand to regain my attention. The room is thick with frustration and apprehension and I can barely catch my breath. Looking at my mother-in-law, both of her hands are covering her mouth, and she appears on the verge of tears.

"Remember what I just told you, Ana, and that you said you knew you would always be our family?

I merely nod my ten-ton head.

"Then listen to something that I have never thanked you for. I never had a relationship with Christian, not even as kids, until he met you. Something you did changed him for the better. Christian did not have a relationship with anyone else in this family either, and you changed that as well. This family owes you. We owe you a hell of a lot. Now let us pay you back. Let us help you." Elliot pleads.

However, unbearable pain from an unknown source lances through me and the dam explodes. I am blinded by a flood of tears and my chest is heaving so hard I feel as if I am about to hyperventilate. Cognizant thought has abandoned me, as I collapse into or onto someone, I am not sure which. Voices are coming from every direction. My wailing must wake Emma Grace, I hear her shrieking, and then someone must have taken her from the room, as her cries grow fainter. Someone is calling for a paper bag, I feel fingers checking my pulse, and dizziness is sweeping me away. From a place I thought was long removed, I hear my own voice yelling something. Something that silences the talking, the panic, and the noise. Now I begin to pain, which spurs on whatever attack I seem to be having. I try, try, try to stop. From taking in gulps of air that make it worse to attempting to control my rapid breathing, nothing helps.

The room is once again a mass of voices, speaking at the same time. Arguing this, pointing out that. Female voices telling another to go get something, male voices castigating Elliot for what he caused. So many voices from faces I cannot visualize due to my copious weeping. The torrent of tears that are heavy, as though they are a liquid torrent of heavy blood. They are desperate to help me, but they are actually nothing more than additional weight on top of me. The weight of other people's expectations, their feelings, their reputations, and their good names. Who bears the weight of my expectations, my feelings, my reputation, my good name? Where is Kate? Where is Luke? Ray?

Then… a pushed up sleeve and a pin prick.

The lap that I am laying on is Ray's. His large and kind hand is rubbing my forehead and he is murmuring something in a comforting tone. I do not have to open my eyes to know where I am, or discover that I lost my shit in what was probably a nervous breakdown and Grace had to sedate me. There are others around us. I can smell Kate's perfume and I hear her nervously and rapidly talking to Angela. Kate is also softly crying. I was screaming, wailing, practically keening, and acting like a goddamn fool, and now Kate is crying. Why is she crying? My lunacy is probably the reason behind her tears.

Prying my eyelids open, looking up at my dad, I scrunch my forehead together. I raise my head up and see that I am in a guest bedroom on the first floor. Struggling to sit up, I fight Ray when he tells me that I should lie back down, as usual, I do not listen, and he finally helps me sit upright. My head spins from whatever Grace shot me up with, but I am aware of my surroundings and I am coherent. After I wipe both my eyes, I look around the room until my eyes land on Kate. I notice several things that are out of place, along with being quite disturbing.

Kate watches as I take in her appearance. She has obviously been crying; crying quite hard. Both of her eyes are swollen and her makeup is non-existent. It is when my eyes focus on her white tee shirt that I automatically attempt to stand. Ray grabs me by the waist to stay seated and Kate is crying on Angela's shoulder. What is all over Kate's white tee shirt? There is blood smeared all over it. Why is there blood all over Kate's white tee shirt?

"What's happened? Kate, are you hurt? Daddy?" I ask them.

For what seems like my entire life, the three of them do not answer me and I impatiently ask again. Kate turns her head fractionally and looks at me, her eyes are so sad.

"I'm not hurt, Ana. I'm not hurt." She whispers.

I force the cobwebs from my head and everything is much clearer. Well, everything except the reason Kate's shirt has blood on it.

"Then how did you get blood on your shirt? Did I accidentally hurt you?"

Kate rushes to me, enveloping me in a hug. I take note that the blood on her tee shirt is bright red and a bit wet- it is fresh.

"No, Ana Banana! You silly little thing. You didn't hurt anyone, you were upset and when we couldn't calm you down, Grace had to give you some medicine, and you went to sleep"

"Oh. That is what I figured. It is how I feel, too." I reply, my eyes still looking at her in confusion.

Due to the guest room's close proximity to the family room, I assume that the others heard us talking, and that is why someone is knocking on the door. For some reason, I watch Ray, Kate, and Angela freeze. I wait for one of them to tell whoever is on the other side of the door to come in and more importantly, to quit acting so fucking strangely.

"It is fine, come in." Angela says.

My back is to the door and it sounds as if more than one person has entered the room. I turn my groggy head to the right and see Mia, in tears, and Carrick, who looks furious enough to commit murder. What in the hell did I do while on the fringe of madness? Swallowing nervously, I blink rapidly and await my verbal lashing, until Mia rushes crying, muttering, "I'm so sorry" and me Before I can ask what is going on, she is on the floor in front of me with her head on one of my knees, still crying. Mia keeps shaking her head and muttering, "I cannot believe he did it. I just cannot! Oh, Ana! I'm so sorry!" My eyes dart from Kate and Angela to the top of Mia's head, and I still have no clue as to what in the hell is going on. Perhaps my own out of control crying fit was contagious.

I look to Carrick for answers and he bends down to his daughter, whispering something to her. Given a few minutes, Mia stands up, stares at me, and then engulfs me in her arms, before wordlessly leaving the room. Now there were four. Well, five counting me.

"Ray, what do you want to do?" Carrick asks. His voice is gruff and quite hoarse.

Ray does not answer my father-in-law; instead, he gets off the bed, picks me up, and makes me lie back down.

"Well, I think whatever we do that without a doubt that Kate should be present."

I look at my best friend's expression and realize that whatever has happened is really bad. As in, someone is fucked badly.

"I would never leave Ana. Of course, I'll stay." Kate replies.

Angela quickly excuses herself and shuts the door behind her. Before I can blink, Kate is sitting to my right, Ray on my left, and Carrick is on the foot of the bed.

Ray and Carrick sigh at the same moment, but I cannot take my eyes off Kate's tee shirt.

"Ana, do you remember anything from earlier tonight?" Carrick asks.

"Yes. I am not clear why I freaked out, but I remember feeling as if I got a shot and then I woke up in here. Why? What's wrong?"

"Annie, Grace did sedate you. You were hysterical baby girl, and having a hard time catching your breath. When you started getting sleepy we brought you in here to rest."

The three of them keep looking at one another; it appears they are unsure who should speak next or what they should tell me. They have past the point of driving me insane.

"Ana, do you remember when Elliot was talking to you, right before you got so upset?" I guess they decided with their eyes that it was Kate's turn to talk.

Rolling my eyes at her, I nod yes. Kate swallows nervously before she speaks again, but the only thing I want to hear is why she has goddamn blood on her shirt and why in the hell hasn't Mia given her another one to wear. Kate can barely take it when Emma Grace spits up on her and she changes her shirt within seconds. Yet her she is, covered in freaking blood and appearing to be fine with it.

"Kate, just tell her what happened up until he left and then I'll tell her the rest." Carrick sounds so sad.

"Banana, you got upset when Elliot was talking to you. We all panicked because we didn't know what to do, and you were fighting all of us. At first you were trying to say something, but you were crying too hard to say it," Kate whispers. "But that's when you screamed out why...That's when you told everybody what is going on, why you wanted to come here. You yelled that you were divorcing Christian and he was going to be served with the divorce papers tomorrow."

Holy mother of God. I hope to fuck that is all I said. I cannot decide if I am currently in The Twilight Zone or Hell.

"After you said that, everyone got really afraid for you. I nearly called 911. Then Elliot just went postal and was screaming and demanding answers from Ray, Carrick, and me. When we could not tell him anything that satisfied him, he just lost it. Just completely lost control, your dad, and Carrick could not get him to calm down. I even went outside and got Sawyer, who eventually calmed him down."

I suddenly become afraid. I stop wondering what else I could have said, and nearly panic that Elliot is hurt and that is why Kate looks like a stuck pig.

"Is Elliot hurt? Oh, my God! Is he, Kate?"

"No, my banana! Elliot is not hurt. He was so torn up by what you said, and along with what Elliot has been suspecting...about Christian, that is. Oh, where was I? Okay, anyway, Elliot took the fact that you are divorcing Christian as confirmation about his suspicions. At first, he looked like he was calming down and started talking about taking you to the hospital. Then Elliot took his phone out and called his brother and Christian rejected the call, and that is when he lost it again. But this time there was no stopping him."

I do not like where this is going.

"Stopping him from doing what exactly?" I ask quietly.

"We tried to stop him from leaving. Elliot stormed out of the house, fought past Sawyer, and sped away in his truck." She replies.

I look at each of them, inclined towards hurting them all if they do not just fucking tell me everything all at once. Holding up my hand, I motion for Kate to stop speaking.

"Before any of you tell me the rest of this story, why does Kate have blood of her shirt?"

"Honey, I got blood on my shirt when Elliot came back. He had blood on him and thinking he had been in an accident, I ran to him and grabbed him around the neck, holding him to me. That's why there is blood on my shirt."

"Why haven't you changed shirts?"

Kate snorts at my ridiculous question and I glare at her.

"Because that is the last of our worries." She replies.

"Jesus. Someone get to the point, please. If Elliot did not get into an accident, then why was he bleeding?"

"Ana, Elliot wasn't bleeding. It is not his blood on Katherine's shirt. It is Christian's." Ray says.

My mouth drops open and I close it, doing this several times. Ray's voice has been wiped clean of any emotion and his face is a blank canvas. Christian's blood? Holy fuck. Elliot and Christian must have fought one another.

"Christian's blood? You're telling me that Elliot got into a fight with Christian?" I ask.

"Ana, the term fighting is not fitting of what happened." Carrick replies.

"But…"

"There are no but about it, Ana. Elliot went to the penthouse and certain things...occurred. It is time for the men to leave the room. Kate can fill you in with the exact details. They are delicate and neither your father nor I feel particularly comfortable being around while you are told. We were not comfortable when Elliot told us either. We are all in the family room if you need us. Ana?"

"Yes, Carrick?"

"We love you. I love you as my own. In addition, it is as I told you Saturday, it will be okay. I will see to it."

"I love you, too, Carrick. I love you, all. So much."

Once we are alone, Kate drops horizontally on top of my legs, her body completely limp, and face down. It is my turn to comfort her, so I play with her long blonde hair like I used to in college. It never failed to soothe her.

"Don't raise up, I know whatever happened has sucked the life out of you. Just tell me straight up. Don't skip anything to spare a feeling you think I might have left." I say.

Kate listens, remaining in my lap, sighing deeply while I run my fingers through her hair.

"Ana, it's bad. As in-mother fucking bad."

"Yeah, I gathered that already, Kate. Tell me what happened."

Kate turns her head and we face each other. Her eyes are dry now and I am tempted to order her to remove that tee shirt. It is Christian's blood after all, and despite my first HIV and Hepatitis C tests being negative, I still would not want his blood touching me.

"Elliot went to the penthouse to confront Christian and ask why he was avoiding everyone. Miraculously, and I think as a favor from God to you, security was not waiting at the elevator. So Elliot walked in the apartment without Grey having a head's up. He said he did not call out for Christian to give him any warning and just walked around looking for him. Finally, some goon called Wilson came out of his cave, but knew Elliot and didn't announce to Grey that he had company."

I run my fingers through my hair and groan. "Why do I have a feeling this isn't going to sound pretty?"

"Sound pretty? You should have seen my husband. It didn't look pretty either."

"Okay, I've been assured that Elliot isn't hurt, so now I am assuming that he stomped a mud hole in Christian's ass."

"Well, you're about to get a vivid description of other shit besides Christian getting his ass handed to him."

"Kate." I warn her.

"Here goes. This goon Wilson directs Elliot to Grey's study and Elliot stood there trying to calm himself down before opening the door. He said at first he didn't think Christian was in there because it was so quiet, but decided to look anyway," Kate says softly, looking at me. "He opened the door and saw his married brother sitting in the chair behind his desk getting sucked off by some naked brunette chick."

I shoot straight up, causing Kate to yelp in protest.

"Whoa... Wait! This is Monday, not the weekend. Christian has gone off the reservation of his usual contracts. He must really like Miss Sams to have a contract amended like this!" I screech.

"Yeah, well, who cares? There is much more interesting aspects to this tale of woe. Christian's chair is facing away from the door and never sees or hears Elliot enter the room. Elliot walked straight to the desk and your disgusting piece of shit almost ex husband was too preoccupied to even notice. He said that the woman, or as we know her, Miss Sams, saw him and her eyes widened even though she was still blowing Grey. I cannot figure out how she kept from biting Grey's cock off from the shock of Elliot's surprise visit. Anyway, without saying a word, Elliot picked up Christian's laptop and sent it sailing into a wall. Needless to say, that got Christian's attention and he was far from pleased. Elliot started screaming at Christian about what a bastard he is and before Christian could get a word out; Elliot wrapped an arm around Grey's neck and literally pulled him across his desk,"

"Son of a bitch," I whisper.

"Tell me about it."

"What did Christian do then?"

"Well, you know Christian is pretty tough, so he started trying to get out of Elliot's grip and fight back, but Elliot finally had him in his face, and well, Elliot started beating the ever living fuck out of him. From the way Elliot described it, it was a complete beat down. Christian never got a lick in. However, before Elliot told us anything else, he started going on and on about the weird slut, Elliot's words, not mine. He kept saying how strange it was. Elliot went on and on that after Christian's cock was pulled out of her mouth, she kneeled there with her head down and never moved. Total sub mode, of course, but Elliot is so confused that she did not yell for help or even attempt to help Christian,"

"She knew better."

"Then Elliot said that before he had beat Christian silly, that his brother was doing his best to sound stern and cold to her and ordered her to her room. Elliot said that Miss Sams went running from Christian's study stark ass naked."

"Freaks."

"Elliot said he might have broken Christian's nose and he heard a popping noise when he was kicking him." She says.

"Elliot was kicking him? Did he get Christian to the ground?"

"Fuck yes. Christian ended up trying to protect himself by getting in the fetal position and then Elliot started kicking him. The worst part is that Elliot was still wearing his work boots."

"Mother fucking fucker!"

"I guess at some point, security heard the brawl and two guys ran in to rescue Grey. You know Elliot, if someone tries to fuck with him, he goes bat shit crazy, so one guy goes to help Grey and the other goes to grab Elliot and then they start fighting. The goon got one shot in and then Elliot laid him out."

"Did the guy hurt Elliot?"

"Nah, he punched him in the jaw. It is starting to bruise but Grace checked him out and said it was not broken."

"That is just…crazy."

"I know, right! Elliot said the entire time he was hitting and kicking Christian he kept screaming, "This one is for Ana." and "How could you do this to Ana?" I do not think any of this is funny in the least, but Elliot keeps going on about Miss Sams and the sub behavior that he does not know about, and I find it so amusing. However, I am afraid that Elliot will tell someone about the way Christian and Miss Sams were behaving and that someone will be familiar with a BDSM relationship and out his brother." Kate says excitedly.

"Shit. I am so sorry that Elliot saw that. God, can you imagine walking in on that?"

"Well, ya gotta look at it from your perspective, Ana. As I said, it is as if God did not have security by the elevator and Elliot got in and did see it. You put out the affair with a brunette theory, Elliot and Carrick already believed it was the case, then poor Elliot walks in on the nasty shit. Therefore, there is proof of an affair and no way for Grey to deny it. By the way, Elliot is desperate to get in here and comfort the shit out of you as he put it. The entire family feels like shit, they all assume you knew it all along."

"Wait a sec. Who did Elliot tell all of this to?"

"Christ, Ana. When he got back here, he practically tore the doors down getting in the house. He barrels into the family room where we were all waiting and pacing. We were wondering what in the fuck he was up to, although I have no doubt Ray and Carrick had an idea. Hell, Elliot rushed in with Luke on his heels, and looked like he had been stabbed. Grace and I rushed him and then he just let loose with the entire story. He was so out of it and furious that he did not edit a word, even with his mom and Mia being in the room. Once he was finished telling us all what happened, Carrick and Luke had to hold your dad back. He was going to Escala to finish what Elliot had started."

"Thank God for that. Ray has wanted to kill Christian since I told him. What did poor Grace do?"

"Oh, Grace did a lot of things. Went nuts, started checking Elliot as if he had been in a gang brawl, and begged him to go to the hospital. She nearly fainted, cried for you, and then started crying for Christian. She started questioning Elliot about the condition Christian was in when he left and then grabbed her doctor bag and headed to Escala. She was upset that Elliot beat him that way, reminding him of the physical abuse Christian had gone through as a child. Shit, when she finished lecturing him about what all Grey went through, I even felt bad," She replies.

"If she was so upset, who drove her to Escala? Damn, I know that had to have thrown Christian back to when he was small. I am not mad at Elliot, but thinking of Christian's PTSD over being abused, and probably retreating into that same little kid, makes my heart hurt."

"I know, sweetie," Kate whispers. "Your heart is to good and genuine not to feel that way. Even if it is over Grey."

"You did not say who drove Grace to Escala."

"Oh, Carrick did. Christian refused to see him, although he finally relented and agreed to go the hospital with Grace. One of his security guys took them and Carrick came back here. We have no idea if Elliot inflicted any serious injuries to Grey, but Grace called me to check on you and told me all these signs for any complications you could have from that shot."

"Did Elliot know why Taylor wasn't around to save Christian's ass?"

"He never mentioned Taylor and none of us asked. We were too busy trying to pick our jaws up off the floor after Elliot told us what went down."

"Should I feel bad about this?"

Kate sits up on the side of the bed and looks at me as if I have grown an additional limb.

"You think you should feel bad that Elliot walked in on Christian's sub giving him head? How in the hell do you figure that any of that is your doing? Elliot has been saying Christian has been acting weird for a while, Ana. He knew something was up practically around the time you found out the truth. Elliot might be a big softie, but he is not stupid by any means. He had Christian pegged all along. It just sucks that now he has got that visual in his head."

"I can understand that. Your own brother's cock in the mouth of a completely naked weird woman who will not get off her knees or lift her eyes off the floor. This t is just so fucked up."

"Fucked up is an understatement." Kate deadpans.

_**Wednesday, September 23**__**rd**__**, 2015**_

_Seattle, Washington_

A long time ago, my little girl pink was blackened train wreck blue. I healed from it; Ray picked me up, holding me until those bruises faded. Never in my wildest dreams, did I consider that it would happen again in my lifetime. Nevertheless, it did and left open a door that I was forced to enter and question if there is such a thing as fate. I still do not know the answer. One thing that I do know is that the length of time between the months of April and September are relatively short; but they are filled with very long seconds, minutes, hours, and days. I utilized every one of those and I no longer have to remind myself to smile. To be happy. Yes, I have continuously dug in down inside and I need to start again. I never required any of my loved ones to tell me that I cannot change my past, but I can let it go.

Yes, Christian Grey was allowed far too much time to influence my thoughts, my life. He will be my lost time, years that were wasted, and too many mindless moments between us. However, Christian is not welcome in my head anymore. Not very long ago, I was devastated by pain. Pain that I could not take; could not endure. I was simply too paralyzed to take it anymore. Christian Grey broke me and I was initially too fucking weary to fight. I was even too tired to surrender to the truth about my life. There have been many times that I questioned if I would take my time with Christian back. I admit that I would wonder if I would really give it back to him. The last time I spoke to Christian, that day at Ray's, I will say his words concerning my career bothered me, that is until I remembered that I only wanted to sit and read manuscripts, looking for words that would be linked together and become a wonderful story. I never wanted to own a publishing company or to run one. It has truthfully never given me pleasure and if I had my way, I would take some white out and cover up my name as the CEO of Grey Publishing. In the stillness of one particular night, I remembered something that the poet e.e. cummings wrote that summed up my time between April and September, "The eyes of my eyes are opened," Words so simple and so apt.

Christian and his legal powerhouse did not offer the slightest resistance to Darlington, Kendall, and Colter, and agreed to the speedy process of laying our marriage to rest. That lack of resistance or trouble dealing with Christian lies solely on Carrick Grey. Christian eventually granted time to see his father and Carrick said his son expected another fight, verbally or otherwise. However, the only thing Carrick Grey wanted from Christian was his word to leave me in some sort of peace and not drag this out. Shocking all of us, Christian kept his word and here we are a month later, a sunrise away from the last meeting between Mr. and Mrs. Christian Grey.

The day after bloody Monday, as my sarcastic best friend secretly refers to it, and the day Christian was served with divorce papers, I sat between Kate and Luke in Carrick's office, honestly relaying what we could. It was, without a doubt, the most uncomfortable conversation that I had ever experienced, even more disturbing than the day Ray stuttered his way through the bird's and the bee's talk. What annoyed Carrick the most was that I had not trusted him enough to confide in him or seek legal counsel, along with Katherine not telling Elliot the truth of Christian's infidelity those times that he asked her. Elliot, just like Carrick, understood Kate's bond with me and why she kept her mouth shut. While they were both upset by it, they eventually let it slide due to her long time loyalty to me. There was no ambivalence, and if anything, it made everyone closer and more protective of one another. Both men saw why Luke protected me and helped me as I dealt with Christian's pretend affair and understood why Luke would no longer be working for Christian. So the day after bloody Monday was also the day of Luke's resignation. While Katherine begged for Luke to walk into Christian's office and not only give him his resignation letter, but a punch to the gut; Carrick and I overruled her and allowed Luke to choose how to handle it. His decision was anti climatic to say the least, and one I thought fitting. Carrick drew up the document that began with Luke resigning from Christian Grey's employment and then demands to all of Christian's legally binding monetary compensation that was in Luke's employment contract with Christian. Again, there was not an argument over that and within days; Luke received a check with several zeros on it. Luke simply made his way to the executive floor where Christian's office is, and sat the envelope containing his resignation and each key to Christian's vehicles and homes, and laid them on the counter directly in front of Andrea. Knowing what she had long been aware of, Luke gave her a glare of disgust and then saw Taylor, both men staring the other down. Taylor looked away first; his eyes landing on the envelope, realization hitting him, and Luke simply called for the elevator and left Grey House for good. Tom and Samuel were parked outside waiting for him, and Luke told me that he had not felt so free since long before terrible April afternoon.

As predicted, Christian shut himself off in his tower in the sky and refused to speak with his father and especially his brother. Grace and Mia went to check on him a week after that fateful night and found that he was beginning to feel better, although he was still black and blue. However, when they described him as being pitiful, Kate and I nearly puked in our mouths. Christian Grey can be described by many words but pitiful will never be one. Hearing that Grace and Mia went to Christian to reassure him of their devotion and forever love, they were also emphatic when they told him that his gold digging slut, as Mia is calling her, will never be accepted by the family nor will she ever enter their home. Without exchanging a word, I looked at Kate knowingly. Grace and Mia would never have to worry about that. Miss Sams was not a woman that Christian was in love with and would never lay her eyes on a member of the Grey family. Well, except for two. It took a good two weeks before Grace and Mia could look at me without crying. Fighting the urge to tell them to shut up with their endless apologies became harder to control. They had no reason to apologize to me and during my lowest points; I became terrified that those apologies were meant for having to tell me good-bye.

What can I say about Elliot? Initially disgusted, shocked, angry, to the point of destructive violence, Elliot Grey? He never stopped calling me sis, hugging me every time that he saw me, or calling to check on me. Sometimes I would see a glint of embarrassment in those loving eyes and I knew it was due to what he walked in on. Kate said she found him in the shower crying and when she asked him what was wrong, all that he could mutter was his brother's name. Whenever I think about that, the same large lump closes my throat and once again, I find two words stuck in my head-collateral damage. Christian has love offered to him in spades, people that would probably take a bullet for him, although he refuses to accept it and throws it all away. He has thrown each of them away.

In mere hours, I will be making my way south to Vancouver to where the office of Darlington, Kendall, and Colter is located. The big bad Grey legal squad did not even protest about having the meeting all the way in Vancouver. I have wondered why Christian is being so amendable, but a quick mental rundown leads to the same place, it is where I am, wanting it over. It feels like I am taking a traveling circus with me. Of course, Kate, Ray, Angela, and Luke will be with me. I believe shock ran deep in us all when Carrick insisted on being there, although he admitted that his decision was made from his love for his son, as well as me. There was no doubt in my mind that was true and it actually made me happy. Christian needed someone in his corner, even if that someone was also in mine. Christian adamantly told his mother and Mia to stay at home and they begrudgingly agreed, and then cried when they assured me they also wanted to be there for me as well. The realization of how divorce hurts more people than the couple divorcing staggered me. It never crossed my mind. I was only concentrating on keeping Christian's demons from the Grey's and never breaking their bond. I never expected to remain loved and considered a part of their family, no matter how our relationships will surely evolve.

It is now five-twenty-five in the evening and Kate and I are sitting in her brand new Mercedes waiting for a visual of Tom. Three ridiculously large, black Cadillac Escalades are practically parked on top of us, causing both of us to roll our eyes. We are both dressed to the nines, as one would expect a woman with the last name of Grey to be. We knew to wear light colored dresses; such colors cause a mess to show up better. Katherine had called one of the Canlis brother's personally about her reservation and requesting a certain table, one that sits two, but also in the center of the dining area. Having the last name of Grey guaranteed that Mr. Canlis eagerly handled the task himself. Of course, where the table is situated was requested strategically.

Tom appears out of nowhere and nods at Kate, who drives her brand new Mercedes-AMG GT S toward the valet who helps us out and hands Kate her ticket. Walking into a fine restaurant as Mrs. Christian Grey, which I am still known by since our upcoming divorce is still top secret and the press has yet to get wind of it, and Mrs. Elliot Grey, the maitre d immediately meets us. After a moment of kissing our ass, a hostess leads us to the exact table Kate requested and after more fucking blah, blah, talking; she tells us our server will be with us shortly. I have taken the seat where my back is to the direction our dear server will approach us from. Kate's eyebrow is raised; emerald eyes hard, and is tapping the fingers of one hand on the table. Our eyes are locked with unnamed emotions behind them. Whether we are simply relieved to have reached this moment, or just complete bitches, we are calm and collected as we wait. In addition, we do not have to wait long.

Katherine's gaze leaves mine and she is now looking over my shoulder. She alerts me of what is headed our way with a barely noticeable twitch of an eyebrow. My curiosity nearly causes me to turn and look, so I quickly cast my eyes down and make a bored show of checking my phone. Through my lashes, I watch as Kate's hard and intimidating expression never leaves the approaching body. Once our server is beside our table, Kate's expression becomes hostile and one of thinly veiled disgust. I have kept my face slightly down and directed to my left where my phone is on the table. For just a few more seconds, I remain an anonymous and nameless, wealthy diner.

"Good evening, welcome to Canlis. My name is Haley and it is my pleasure to serve you both tonight. Would you like to start with an appetizer or a cocktail?"

I never wondered how the voice of Haley Sams would sound. I suppose the thought of a submissive caused me to believe it would be soft and unassuming. However, the voice that just hit my ears is strong and vibrant. She even sounds happy and welcoming. Well, I suppose that could be a part of her job.

Kate wanted the honor of making the introduction that would bring about the knocking of a pair of knees. I did not give a fuck and let her have her way. Here we go.

"We want a bottle of the '99 Richebourg Burgundy," Kate replies, sounding as rude as a person possibly could. "Is that vintage good with you, Anastasia?"

Anastasia. What Lucifer calls me. Let us see if she has heard him do so and wonder if I am that Anastasia. Looking up, I toss my hair back and quickly look at Kate, who is wearing a satisfied smirk. I do not give my answer to Katherine; instead, I steadily rest my eyes on the shocked face of my husband's whore.

"Of course, Katherine. That vintage will be wonderful. You do know if you have it in stock, don't you?" I ask Miss Sams, my voice dripping contempt. I deliberately look her over, from her dark brown hair that is up in a bun to her ugly uniform and shapeless shoes. She is as petite as I am and undeniably beautiful. My attention snaps back to her widened eyes and she knows that I have all but screamed that I know who and what she is. I remember Gail telling me how the bitch sarcastically smirked at the mention of my name. The glare and smirk I offer her is not sarcastic, it full of bitter distaste.

Miss Sams remains in a shocked silence before she is able to recover herself enough to answer me. She attempts a polite smile and I guess that could be her inward and desperate plea that she is wrong about whom I am. The dagger I throw from my darkened blue eyes lands in her chest and puts her hope that I am not the Mrs. Christian Grey to rest.

"Yes, ma'am, we do. Is that all you would both enjoy at this time?" She asks softly. That vibrant happiness she possessed moments ago has turned to vapor.

"Yes, Miss Sams. That is all."

Referring to her as Miss Sams was the final nail in what would become the worst night of her current life. She knows that she did not tell us her last name and yet I referred to her by it. She is currently standing between two women who are murdering her with their expressions, who will soon derail everything she knows, her small frame can deceive you, it does not look like it could withstand Christian's beloved canes, and I hope that does not mean that I will not be able to break her easily.

"Of course. I will have that out to you momentarily." She replies. It takes her a second or two to pick up her feet and head to the wine cellar.

We do not wait until she is out of ear shot before we start laughing.

"That was so worth the fact that I missed out on the Declan experience! You could not see it, but when I called you Anastasia, I knew she was aware of who you were. Her little order book nearly fell out of her hands."

"Yeah, well, you know Christian has always refused to call me Ana."

"Don't mention that fucker's name to me." She says. "At least while I have got to sit here and look at her."

"Do you think she knows that the hunky blonde man that caught her blowing Christian is your husband?" I ask jokingly.

Kate giggles. "Oh, I fucking hope so. Although I doubt someone like her would be embarrassed by it."

"Why do I think I hate her?"

Kate looks at me as if I am an idiot.

"Probably because you know four hours ago your husband was fucking her."

"For the last time."

Kate looks deep in thought and leans across the table.

"Do you know when ghost man is taking that shit out of Escala?" She whispers.

My eyes widen and I look around as if someone could possibly know what she is referring to.

"Shhh! Jesus, Kate!" I hiss.

"Fuck you, Steele! Do not be stupid. No one knows what we are talking about. Answer me!"

"I fucking hate you, Kavanagh! The answer is NO! Like Luke would tell anyone in the first place."

"Ohhhh….I bet you could get it out of Luke if you tried hard enough." Kate snickers.

Wanting to stick my tongue out at her and knowing that I cannot because of where we are, I roll my eyes.

"And why in the fuck did you order a bottle of wine that costs well over three grand? You are going to waste a bottle of wine that is that expensive! They had better not charge it to either of us, Kate."

Kate sighs in exasperation and kicks me under the table.

"Ouch, Kate! Cut that shit out. We are not in the cafeteria at WSUV!"

We both start laughing at my words. Then I have the fleeting thought that I wished we were in that cafeteria.

The narrowing of Kate's eyes alert me that Miss Sams is approaching. She continues giving the whore a knowing glare. It is Kate's blaring message telling Miss Sams that we are not here for an entrée.

"Ladies, I have the vintage you ordered. Our sommelier complimented you both for your exquisite taste," Little Miss Sams says, obviously doing her best to sound like I have not put her in a tailspin.

"Yes, Harley," Kate spits, purposely calling her by the wrong name. "My dear sister-in-law, Mrs. Grey, has wonderful taste in wine. Her husband has taken her on several trips around the world and introduced her palette to various excellent vintages."

Harley? It takes all I can muster to keep from howling with laughter. Introduced my palette? Yeah, I know that is what a wine snob might say, but hearing Kate say it in such a pretentious way and just to rile Miss Sams up is fucking hysterical.

"That sounds wonderful, ma'am. Shall I pour you both a glass?" Harley, no, Haley asks.

Kate looks me straight in the eye.

I look rent a whore dead in the eye, a small, but hell sent smile on my face. Her shoulders, that she must have squared to appear confident, twitch as my eyes never leave her face.

"Well, yes…it is your job, is it not?" I snarl at her.

"Certainly, ma'am."

With her little white towel draped neatly over her forearm, Miss Sams reaches to Katherine's glass first. Kate is still watching me and I am watching the dainty hands of my husband's fuck. After expertly pouring Kate's wine, Miss Sams stands up and goes to pour my glass of wine. Kate is watching and waiting. I am watching and waiting. Before the wine leaves the bottle, I look at Miss Sams with one final smirk. Here comes the deep red liquid, hitting the bottom of my crystal goblet. I watch and wait until it is enough. Finally. Satisfaction surrounds Katherine's smile.

Once I deem the glass has enough of the deep burgundy wine in it, I raise my arm and pull it to me quicker than I can blink my eye. Within the span of a breath, I effectively covered my pale pink dress with three thousand dollar wine. With the lightning speed I used to ruin my dress, Miss Sams does not have time to react and to stop pouring the wine. Along with my pink dress, Miss Sams has turned the crisp, white tablecloth into what looks like a bloody crime scene. We hear her loud gasp as her head snaps in my direction. Her expression hints that she is not a stupid rent a whore. She knew it was deliberate and the pure hatred that flashes off my face causes her breath to hitch.

Just as we had planned, Kate and I both loudly react, pushing our chairs from the table and jumping to our feet. The dining room becomes quiet and the restaurants head host turns to look our way. It is time to act like two outraged and wealthy divas. Buh-bye, Haley.

"Oh, my God! What have you done? Look at what you have done to me! You have ruined my dress! My, God! What is wrong with you?" I rant, in a semi lady like tone.

"I am so sorry, Mrs. Grey! I…I do not know what happened! I…"

"You need to be quiet!" Kate grits out through clenched teeth and pointing a finger at her. "I want you to bring your boss over here this instant!"

Miss Sams is looking at us as though she could choke the life out of us. Go get ready to pack your shit up, Miss Sams. I do believe you have just become unemployed.

Quicker than I thought possible, the hostess who led us to our table is by my side and speaking out of both sides of her mouth.

"Mrs. Grey, we apologize profusely and will certainly compensate you for this unfortunate incident. Please accept the sincere apologies of the entire establishment."

I really want to tell this woman to shut up, but I want to draw out the drama for a little while longer. I place a napkin in my glass of water and start scrubbing my dress as if I want to wipe it off. Kate decides to join the party and comes to my side, using her own wet napkin on my dress. The dining room remains silent and all eyes are focused on us.

"Apologies? You think your apologies are sufficient for your employee's service or lack thereof. Look at my sister-in-law's dress, it is completely ruined! Anastasia, darling…do not bother trying to get this wine out of your STELLA MCCARTNEY dress! Who are you? What is your name?" Kate yells loudly, now pointing a finger at the no name hostess.

"Mrs. Grey, I'm one of the hostess' here and my name is Julia Howton. As I told your sister-in-law, we will fully compensate her for the loss of her dress." She replies, her words are rushed and low.

"Oh, I guarantee that you will pay for this mess! Just because Mrs. Grey is the wife of Christian Grey does not mean she doesn't deserve to have her clothing paid for when a klutz that you employee knocks her wine glass in her lap and then continues to pour the wine on her!"

Julia Howton is wringing her hands and giving Haley Sams a death glare at the same time. Miss Sams is standing stock still in the same spot with the bottle of wine still in her hand. Her face is expressionless as she watches the rehearsed drama unfolding before her.

"No, no! We would never insinuate that the wife of Mr. Grey should not be monetarily…"

"Ms. Howton, is Brian Canlis here this evening?" I interrupt her.

Julia Howton's head swings to me and her face is one of dread. If she does not stop wringing her hands, I am going to choke her with them. The mention of the owner of Canlis also gets the attention of Miss Sams.

"No, Mrs. Grey. No, he is not here this evening."

"Who is in charge this evening? Who is the Director of Service? I demand to speak with them right now."

"I am, Mrs. Grey," She replies.

"Well, I expect to be contacted by Mr. Brian Canlis sooner rather than later. The entire Grey and Trevelyan families have spent enormous amounts of money in Mr. Canlis' restaurant and we expect better treatment and much better service from the employees here."

"Of course, Mrs. Grey. Please, know that everyone here at Canlis appreciates the long-standing relationship with your family. We would never jeopardize that relationship or do anything that even implies that we have insulted you."

"Excuse me, Anastasia. Ms. Howton, I do not appreciate having to be reassured that the Grey-Trevelyan families will not be disrespected. If this service has become the norm here since my last visit, than I give you my word you will never see a dime of our money again." Kate says loudly.

Looking at Miss Sams from underneath my eyelashes, I can tell that she knows her fate. Kate and I have said the word service too many times; and she is the service.

"I am so sorry if you thought I was implying anything of the sort, Mrs. Grey. I will contact Mr. Canlis myself and inform him of what has happened. I know that he will be mortified and everything will be taken care of."

And because it is my husband that the rent a whore has been fucking since April, I am the one who has the honor to add the cherry on top.

"Brian Canlis cannot be any more mortified than I am right now. An entire restaurant has witnessed this entire scene and completely embarrassed me. Mr. Canlis will call Mr. Grey, but I have no need for my dress to be replaced nor do I want it to be. The only way to ensure that any future clientele is not treated the way I have and the ensuing embarrassment is for this woman to have her position terminated immediately."

I do not bother pointing fingers the way that Kate loves to. I merely moved my chin in Miss Sams direction and watched her physically deflate.

"Mrs. Grey, Haley is an exemplary employee and nothing like this has ever happ…"

Shaking my head, I pick up my phone and act as if I am about to dial a number. Ms. Howton's eyes widen.

"Fine, Ms. Howton. I hope that this woman will not pour red wine all over Mrs. Bill Gates on her next visit to Canlis. I am going to just call Mr. Grey and explain everything to him and he can call Brian Canlis directly."

Just like the wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round, so do the wheels in the mind of Julia Howton. Fire a low-level employee versus Christian Grey calling Brian Canlis. Evidently, the decision was not hard for her to make. She turns to Miss Sams and quietly asks her to go and wait for her in her office.

Full of satisfaction, Kate and I wait on the valet to bring her car around. There is nothing we can say about what we just pulled off, so we enter the car in silence. Once inside, Katherine gives me a smug smile and I point toward the direction were are to go. There we spot the three Escalades that have been waiting for us. Luke and Tom exit one and approach us, each man's head turning in every direction as if they are protecting the President of the United States.

"Over the top, much?" Kate mutters, rolling down our windows.

Luke stands beside mine and Tom at Kate's. Their hulking bodies practically block any view the windows may present.

"Well, what happened? Looking at Ana makes me think mission accomplished." Tom quips.

"Yes, it just went swimmingly," I reply sardonically. "It was something that I want to do every fucking day."

Maybe I sound bitter or angry because no one addresses what I have said. They could be dreading what is coming next, although there is no way they dread it more than I am. Checking my watch, I sigh over the time. Vancouver is a long drive and one I do not relish making late at night. However, there is no avoiding that at this point. All we can do is wait.

A shitting half hour passes by. I have sat and endured Kate's play-by-play account of what went down until I want to strangle her. If she was not a mother, I would. The more time that passes, I begin to feel apprehensive. Surely, Julia Howton did not dare go against my demand. I think Luke is beginning to have the same thought as I catch him checking his watch several times. The dark parking lot is illuminated by several streetlights. Fortunately, the back exit does have a light over it and there is no way for anyone to enter or exit without being seen. We know there are cameras everywhere, we no longer have a reason to care, and even if there was a reason, I am way past caring about shit.

The door to the restaurants back exit flings open and bangs against the wall. Miss Sams is pissed. I throw Katherine a glare when she watches the woman stomp across the parking lot and giggle. I do not find anything amusing about this. The back of my mind does find white-hot hostility toward Miss Sams and it is a strange feeling that I haven't felt toward any of the other four. Not even when I was breathing down the neck of Hillary Declan. I go to open my door, hitting Luke in the ass. Turning around, he looks at me with narrowed eyes and opens my door. Very quickly, Miss Sams is nearing her lovely red Audi that is courtesy of my husband. Just as quickly, I have taken off my shoes so she doesn't hear me behind her. I must have moved at the speed of a cheetah, because I have practically reached her. Behind me are Luke, Tom, and Kate, who took my cue and removed her shoes. The woman surely felt someone behind her, as she spins around quickly. She has placed each of her keys between a finger. I guess that is Miss Sams planned way to fight off an attack, poking someone with her keys. From the look on her face, it must take her brain a few seconds to process who is in her face. Her expression is a mix of shock and annoyance. Annoyance? The whore my husband pays to beat her is annoyed by his wife?

Game on, Miss Sams.

"You will have to forgive us for having your ass thrown on the street, Haley." I say. "But it seemed appropriate considering the situation."

Haley Sams looks at the ground and shakes her head. The fact she keeps her mouth shut drives me to shake her until she says something, although I manage to remember that I do have manners.

I told everyone that when it came down to this, all bets were off and if they wanted to spit anything at her to go ahead. I never doubted who would be the first one to jump on having free reign and she proved me right.

"Does a cat have your tongue, Sams? Maybe Christian's cock is still stuck in your throat. After all, you just had it down your throat several hours ago. Raise your damn head and look at Mrs. Grey." Kate sounds like a vicious mother bear protecting her cub.

She finally looks up and cocks her head at me warily. It is now that I notice she is dressed in jeans and wearing a North Face sweatshirt. Her long hair is in a ponytail. Her expression quickly appears confused, as if she is wondering how we knew about her earlier dalliance with my husband.

"That is better, Haley. There is no reason for sub mode here. Women like you sicken the two men behind me. They would dump your body in Puget Sound before fucking you with someone else's cock."

Even though I really, really want to bash her head into the pavement, I have kept my voice completely monotone and disinterested. The visceral reaction I have for this woman is much more extreme than the one I had for Hillary Declan.

The mention of being dumped into Puget Sound appears to have scared the fuck out of Miss Sams. We all watch her eyes land on her key fob and before she sets off the car alarm, Tom snatches it out of her hands, causing her to loudly gasp and lean into the car door and raises her hands up in defeat.

"I get it, Mrs. Grey. I am not surprised that you found out considering what happened with Mr. Grey's brother. Just tell me what you want from me." Her tone is matter-of-fact and it pisses me off so badly that I turn around and look at Luke and Kate in amazement.

"Which one are we getting in? I want this over with now." I finally sound like I give a shit.

Luke just nods behind him, I still have no idea which SUV to get this whore into, and all I can figure out is that he must mean the first one behind us.

"Come on, Haley. Let's go…start walking to that black Escalade." Kate growls.

Now Miss Sams looks the same way that Hillary Declan did when I ordered her into that Suburban in New York. She makes zero effort to move and her mouth is wide open. I think we all sigh at the same time.

"Miss Sams, kindly listen to Mrs. Grey and allow me to escort you to the vehicle. We will not be leaving this parking lot." Tom's words are full of authority, but not unkind.

She eyes us all shrewdly. This one is not as compliant as Declan, and it adds fuel to an already burning fire in my gut. I go against my nature and roughly take her by the elbow, surprising her.

"Walk."

"Why are we getting into that vehicle? Seriously, just tell me what the fuck you want?" She bristles at me. I apply pressure to her elbow, her eyes widening.

Kate and Tom walk ahead of us and Luke stays with Miss Sams and me. As we walk to the Escalade, Luke places his arm to my lower back. My brow furrows, not quite understanding why, but then figure he is just leading the way and it is his way of telling me that he is here for me.

"Do yourself a favor and do not swear and disrespect Mrs. Grey. So please follow and then Mrs. Grey will tell you what the fuck she wants." Luke's words are not as kind as Tom's were.

She finally relents without saying a word. Luke opens the back door and Miss Sams does the obvious, getting in and sitting between Kate and I. Luke gets behind the wheel and Craig, the IT expert is in the passenger seat, naturally, there is a MacBook in his lap. Tom and Samuel have moved the other two Escalades and have sandwiched us in. This will not be a drawn out Declan affair. Haley Sams will be informed of her newly changed existence and be sent on her way. If she gives us a hard time or annoys me further, I will be the one dumping her body in Puget Sound.

Luke turns on the interior light and turns to hand Miss Sams a pen and a clipboard that holds the NDA.

"Sign this, please." He says.

Sighing, she takes the pen, scrawls her name on the NDA, and hands the clipboard back to Luke.

"Alright, I am just going to tell you like it is and Christian's wife will probably inform you of some other things. I recommend that you sit there and listen quietly." Kate says.

Miss Sams looks at Kate quizzically. I hear the tap, tap, tap of Craig's fingers on the keyboard.

"Okay, where to start? First, you are now broke. All of your money, which is mainly the money that Christian Grey has paid to beat and fuck you, is now gone…"

"What? What in the hell are you talking about? You cannot get access to my bank account!" Her tone is incredulous.

"I am talking about the fact that you have a zero balance in your bank account; both checking and savings. And yes, we did get access to your bank account. Show her."

Craig gently passes the MacBook to Katherine who places it in Haley Sams lap. The woman takes time to scroll through everything and goes to every folder. There is nothing left to see. Her eyes grow wide and wild and I really believe she is close to becoming violent. She jerks her head to me.

"You did this? You don't have enough money of your own? I swear to fucking…" She snarls, glaring at me.

Kate and Luke simultaneously yell for her to shut her whore mouth. I do not acknowledge her at all. Katherine yanks the laptop from her.

"So you are now penniless…every one of your credit cards have been cancelled and you now have a credit score of 300. In case you do not know, a credit score of 300 is the worst possible one you can have."

Haley Sams starts to say something.

"Eh! Shut it! You can speak when I am finished. That is if I say that you can. You know, the way you behave with Christian," Kate growls. She must think about what she says next, and begins to laugh about it.

"There were not any other credit cards found at your place and my pal Craig up there did an extensive search and no others exist."

"My place? You went into my home? That's illegal…breaking and entering!" Miss Sams shrieks.

"Holy balls, to be a sub, you sure do not listen when you are told not to speak!"

While this is all perfect ways to exercise revenge, sitting here and listening to it is boring me. I am disheartened and cannot understand why. Maybe I am just physically tired and need to rest. There is no possible way that I am not mentally tired and need to rest. Where I am sitting right now, in a pile of horseshit within inches of this gross woman that I despise, the darkness we are all enveloped by is what I am feeling crawling inside of me. This right now, this…what we are doing…has nothing on tomorrow. Tomorrow, when I am essentially on my own, even if Bee and Allison will be with me, tomorrow is all on me. To toss it all out, throw it all down, admit to everything, show it all in vivid Technicolor and Dolby sound, and slam my hand into Christian Grey's soul and reclaim every fucking thing he took from me. All of that is up to me and me alone. My consciousness slips into the present moment. Kate's cruel voice is loudly yapping over the now crying Haley Sams. What did I miss?

"Don't fucking concern yourself with what we did with your belongings…they are gone…long gone. The apartment you used to reside in is now a bare space. We sure hope that you did not have many sentimental things. It is a shame your computer is history. If you had it, maybe you could have replaced some of those photographs you've lost."

Sniff. Sniff.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a total bitch?" Miss Sams chokes out."

Kate snorts. "Has anyone ever told you that you're nothing but a well paid whore?"

Crickets.

"Ana, Luke, what did I forget?" Kate asks.

"The recordings." Luke replies.

Katherine claps her hands excitedly, practically bouncing in the seat. If I were not in such a mood, I would be enjoying her delight immensely. Even feeling the way that I do, I realize Kate is doing all of this because her heart was broken the day that mine was. I owe this woman so much. I owe her my undying loyalty, a lifetime of friendship, and now I owe her not only my sanity; I owe Katherine Grey my life.

"Miss Sams, you might enjoy knowing that for many months now, every time you have been in Christian's so called, playrooms, you have been recorded. As in, there were cameras in every angle all recording you and that pretty face of yours. All meant to capture you and Christian in every fucked up and sick way. Each recording, and hell, there are a lot of them, have your lovely face on full display. There is no doubt that it is you in each of them. We even recorded your voice in case you tried to say that the video had been tampered with."

Haley Sams looks absolutely, totally, horribly, and utterly petrified. I expect she has whiplash from how fast she is whipping her face between Kate and me. This time I meet her gaze and smile at her.

"Why…why would you do that? What can you possibly…"

Her near hysterical panic amuses me so much that I break in and answer before Kate gets the chance to.

"Were you going to ask what I could possibly gain by doing that?" I ask softly. "Haley, I gained so many things by having those playroom sessions recorded. Too many that we am willing to name. However, the two most important things I gained, what I now possess-Your ass and Christian's ass. I. Own. You. Both. Do you know what it means to own something? Well, of course you do. In this particular situation, when I say that I own the two of you, I mean I hold everything in my hands, the means to break the two of you in half. I can wipe you off the face of the planet, Haley. Just think of how I have already dismantled your life and how easily that I did it…Haley, I am the reason a woman is in prison facing a twenty year sentence."

My tone sounds eerie to my own ears and the only sound in the SUV is our breathing. At some point, I have turned to fully face Miss Sams and am stroking the side of her face. I am not quite sure if I just want her to believe that I am crazy or if I am actually crazy. I can see that I have freaked her out. The silence seems to prompt her to speak, and when she does, I see it immediately. A bright line shines down on the fact, pointing out a truth that I never even considered. Discovering this does not bother me in the least and I feel no jealousy. I am honestly speechless and amazed.

"What are you going to do to Mr. Grey," She breathes. "Please, don't do anything to hurt, Sir."

Katherine registers her words as well and her widened eyes reach mine in an instant, asking if I caught it. If I know.

My husband's rent a whore.

My husband's dirty little submissive.

My husband's carefully hidden secret.

Haley Sams.

Is in love with Christian Grey.

Haley Sams is in love with the man I am married to and she is more concerned with what I am going to do to Christian than what I will do to her. I never thought about that-not once. How selfless of her, how considerate. How goddamn pathetic. Now, my coup de grace means so much more. Miss Sams only cares about being separated from Sir. Did God know this and place this idea in my mind? How in the hell could I have thought of this before discovering it was the perfect blow to Miss Sams. I knew what I came up with was extreme, Kate questioned my thinking, Luke just stared at me, and Tom gave me his panty-dropping smile. The universe has given me a gift that I never asked for, but one I will not reject. I am so thrilled I pinch her dick sucking cheek.

"Ahhh…how sweet! You are in love with my husband. Kate, I thought there was surely a submissive school that taught these whores that falling in love with their Dom is a big no-no."

"If Christian knew about this, I'd hate to be your Haley." Kate replies.

"No, Sir cares for me. He has changed it where I am with him during the week now," She declares. "Mrs. Grey, please do not hurt Sir. He is a benevolent Master and I…"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Haley! Do not worry about Sir. Moneybags can take care of himself and you are a disposable whore that he will replace in no time. Get over yourself. A desperate and begging woman is disgusting. Grow some self-respect. So what do we know?" Kate asks. "Guys, correct me if I leave anything out of my summary. Haley, you are penniless and have no credit cards to live off. You have no way to apply for credit since your credit score is 300, and everything in your apartment went bye-bye. Your phone has been disconnected, all of your email accounts have been deleted….Hmmm….Oh yes, those really sick and graphic pictures and months of recordings of you in full on sex slave action. We have the contract you signed and all of those things you eagerly agreed to let Christian Grey do to you."

"The Audi." Luke says.

Kate snaps her fingers and I have to laugh. Haley Sams in sandwiched between us devastated, and we are laughing and making fun of her. Her own choices have brought about well-deserved consequences. Consequences so rabid that she has no way to comprehend what has happened.

"Yep, Haley! No more Audi. You cannot even go take anything out of it. Then again, where you are going, you won't need anything out of it."

Here we go again. Haley Sams starts to panic. Well, rightly so, I suppose.

"What does that mean? Where I am going? I am not going anywhere! Please, Mrs. Grey, what does that mean?"

We all ignore her.

"Oh, hell! I forgot about that Episcopal shit, Ana! Fuck." Kate says, looking directly at Miss Sams, her eyes dancing from her enjoyment.

I make a show of shaking my head as if she has annoyed me.

"Haley, when I paid a visit to another sub that Christian contracted during our marriage; I told her a little fib. Shit, it was more than a little fib. Most would probably refer to it as a big ass, life destructive lie. Anyway, Mrs. Declan, or the sub rather, was from this big Catholic family and taught at this fancy smancy Catholic school. I had a tid bit of information dropped in my lap, things like names and addresses of her family members."

Her eyes are huge as saucers and tears continue to stream down her cheeks. Whether it was Kate saying "Episcopal" or my mention of family members that brought this dread to her face is irrelevant. Miss Sams thinks that I have grabbed her hand and am dragging her down the road of fate I pushed Hillary Declan down. Whenever we all debated if Miss Sams should experience a similar coming out party, there were too many arguments and when we agreed to Kate's immature idea to vote on it, there was still dissent and a fucking two against two tie. Without anyone I found trust worthy to bounce an idea off, I finally made the decision, considering her previous occupation. Considering Miss Sams' surprising revelation of being in love with Sir Canes A Lot, I stand firmly in my belief that what occurred to me one night was true divine intervention.

"Don't start freaking out, Haley. I did tell the other pestilent woman a complete lie when I promised her that I would not distribute the irrefutable evidence about her, but I am not going to do that to you. I will not give you my word that I will not change my mind, because when it comes to you, Miss Sams, my word doesn't mean shit. It would be best for you to never forget that." I say softly. "I took my time when it came to deciding on how you would receive my ultimate fuck you and then one day someone helped me with my final decision. Do you want to know who that someone was, Haley?"

This little twenty-three year-old whore looks confused. Her ponytail has somehow managed to come undone and my hand longs to grab her by the hair and slam her face into the back of one of the front seats. Her brow is furrowed and forehead crinkled, as she appears to be thinking whom I am referring to. I have no doubt Miss Sams has no conscience from the little information I was given about her. A little, smart mouth troublemaker. Disrespectful and rude. Miss Sams was the actual nail in the coffin of another woman's life. A woman that I love and who loves me. The slight flick of a paintbrush can change the vision of an artist in a second. My retribution for Miss Sams was initially because of Christian, although a paintbrush unexpectedly changed the colors of my canvas. She will never know and I know she would never approve; but this is for her, as well as for Christian Grey.

"Well?" Kate asks, causing Haley Sams to turn and look at her. I swear her nonstop head turning is making me nauseous. It is getting later by the moment and I am ready to end this shit and get on the road to Vancouver. This dumbfounded cunt licks her dry lips and nods.

"One woman-First name Gail. Second name Taylor," I say with contempt. "I will not lay the blame of her marriage ending on you, which is all on her fucking liar of a husband. I do know how you treated her while you pranced around Christian's penthouse wearing your see through whore lingerie. Haley, if you look at all of this you can see it is like a game of Dominos. My husband's lifestyle, which would have been fine if he had not been married and lying to me for years, is what starts this game of Dominos. His Domino goes down first, and the next Domino, whose name is Jason Taylor, is knocked down. Again, his decision to aid Christian's lifestyle would have been fine had it not been for me, after all covering for Christian Grey was Jason's modus operandi long before I arrived on the scene. Then there are the next five Dominos that represent each of you five whores, and each of you knocked my Domino down, and then ultimately, you knocked down Gail Taylor's Domino. Their divorce is ultimately due to Jason Taylor's loyalty to my husband. I see you being the reason of Gail's inner turmoil and pain, whether you agree with me or not."

"That is not my doing, Mrs. Grey. I never even knew that Mr. Taylor was married…"

"You never noticed the wedding band on his left hand? No, I suppose not, with Christian's cock in your mouth and all." I reply. "Guys, it is late and I am tired. Can we get this show on the road, please? One of you handle it, my throat hurts from talking."

Katherine's mouth opens, the desire to shock Miss Sams until her ass quivers written on her face. Surprisingly enough, Luke turns and faces Haley Sams and informs her of the next year of her life.

"You are about to get into the SUV that is on the left of you…"

Again, bobble head starts making my stomach roll and head dizzy. I wonder if I thumped her on the head she would quit.

"Why? No, I am not! I am going to call Mr. Grey the minute I get out of this fucking vehicle." Miss Sams says her voice shaky, despite trying to sound confident with her stupid threat.

"And tell him what exactly? That your life is in the shitter and that you are in love with him. You know what would happen if he knew you felt that way. God, you're stupid." Kate replies, waving at her dismissively.

"Sir does care about me! He extended our contract and I know that he wants more with me. Why else would he be with me and not her?" She yells, having the nerve to gesture towards me.

"Call my best friend "her" one more time, bitch, and see what happens. Your Sir-fucking-Lancelot would hear the word love or your schoolgirl notion that he gives a rat's ass about you, and would beat your ass before he tossed you out on it. I will say it once again, shut up. This handsome man here, who finds you icky and probably diseased, has something to tell you."

How Kate manages to growl and talk at the same time is truly an amazing feat. Then again, Kate has never failed at anything she has ever attempted.

"Let's start over. A very nice gentlemen and employee of Mrs. Grey, named Samuel Winston is waiting for you in that SUV. There is another man with him named Kurt Dupree. I assure you that neither of these men will harm you, and Kurt is actually going to be somewhat of a bodyguard for you. They are escorting you to Sea-Tac…"

And the wildcat emerges. Miss Sams does not even bother protesting or begging for answers. She is trying to claw her way across Katherine to get out of the vehicle. Kate does not have to make a single move to stop her, as Luke reaches between the seats and carefully grabs her around the waist.

"Please, calm down, Miss Sams. Your safety is not in jeopardy and it never will be. Calm down before you injure yourself." Luke says in a reassuring tone.

She flops in between Kate and I crying, but says nothing. I shoot Luke a look of pure annoyance and gesture for him to wrap this up no matter how this woman behaves.

"There is a private jet at Sea-Tac that is waiting for you to arrive. Samuel and Kurt will be traveling with you and once you reach your destination, Sam will head back to Seattle. Kurt is to remain with you and I am sure you will become great friends. Don't think he will be interested in fucking you though, he is gay." Luke says, his voice laden with humor. "Mrs. Grey is generously providing you with a very nice home, along with a wardrobe, a sizeable amount of cash and has already found you a place of employment.

Haley Sams interrupts Luke, and stares me in the eyes, hate, and venom heating them. When she figures out that she will never win a staring contest with me, she looks over my shoulder and shakes her head.

"And I thought that I hated you before I ever met you. Mrs. Grey, you have far surpassed the bitch I envisioned you to be. Had you been able to satisfy your husband, he wouldn't have had the need for me." She snarls.

She actually sounds menacing as she speaks, and if she would have uttered those words to me months ago, I would have been devastated. Right now though, right at this minute, right before her eyes, her words mean nothing. Her words are a joke.

"Christian Grey pays whores like you so that he can beat the shit out of them because you all look like his mother. Betcha did not know that sick shit did you? I never allowed him to beat the shit out of me because I have respect for myself, and do not trade my pussy for cash. Remember, you fucking bitch, he married a lady. Christian only has whores like you that sign on a dotted line and then he gives them all a little red Audi. Anastasia Grey is Mrs. Christian Grey, not a whore he met trolling a BDSM club. Anastasia Grey has the rocks on her left hand, while you have red whelps on your back and ass. Anastasia Grey wears million-dollar jewelry that her husband buys her before he takes her out in public. However, you, where does he take you? He takes you to a room, ties you up, and fucks you. I have the name, the status, and the money. You, my dear, don't have a pot to piss in."

That hate and venom that was in her eyes became the spiteful words that fell off my tongue. While everyone else know what I am saying is in the past tense, Miss Sams does not. She only lives a life with him for a few days; t is nothing but a life of pretending. Miss Sams sold her masochism to Christian's sadism and then deluded herself into believing they had a relationship; that he cared about her. It was that delusion of a real relationship and then falling in love with him that drove her to hate me. She hates me because I was Mrs. Christian Grey and I had all of those things that I just threw in her face. The fact that my words have caused another bout of crying only proves that. I can almost pity her for loving someone unable to love her back and the heartbreak that brings. I remember that feeling all too well. It is a searing and paralyzing feeling that you believe you will never recover from. I never thought that I would recover after that April afternoon, wearing that white silk blouse with French salad dressing covering it. I never believed that I would survive the gut wrenching knowledge that I had given Christian every inch of my heart and soul and he had never wanted it. I woke up in a hospital bed after surgery, his was the first face I saw, and I remember wishing that I had died. I woke up and had shortly forgotten about my life. I woke up and looked at my husband, and then it all came crashing down again. I remember thinking that I could die and I would not mind. In fact, I welcomed my own funeral.

That has all changed. The hole Christian bore inside me is practically covered, although I admit there are still cracks in it. I know that a crack can grow wider or seal itself off. I know that mine will do the latter.

"Alright, I have had enough of this bullshit and the snot running down your chin. This is a quick summary of your life for the next year," I say. "Like I have already said, I am exhausted and I am fed up with looking at you. You need to quickly get onboard and accept that I am now your alpha and omega. I am being extremely generous with you and you should be thanking me. We were kind and have already written and emailed your nearest and dearest, telling them that you are taking an extended trip to Europe, even though you are not going anywhere near Europe, but anyway. I am giving you quite a bit of cash and a very nice home to live in for that year, along with a very kind companion to look after you. Unfortunately, you will not have access to the internet or a telephone or the ability to write an S.O.S letter. Everything about your existence will be untraceable for an entire year. I am going to be kind enough to provide Kurt with copies of some of the evidence of your naughty behavior so that you are reminded to keep your ass where I plant it. Do not worry if those copies name or incriminate Sir. I have fixed it where they do not. I am not dumb enough to have you near anything that you could use that would hurt his family."

"This is kidnapping. Out and out kidnapping and I will see that you all go to prison for it."

"Don't make us laugh, Miss Sams. While you sit and ponder a way out of your shit situation, you will remember that I have the entire Christian and Haley Sams BDSM collection. I will not hesitate to use it to fuck you up even further. I would willingly sell it to some hardcore BDSM porn site and let the world see the real boy genius that is the billionaire Christian Grey. If you love him so much, I am sure you would not want that to happen. Not to mention all the religious nuts in your family, with a father who presides over Seattle's landmark Episcopalian church," I scream, my voice is gone and her death is all that I want. "I am also going to ruin you in the "community" as you fuckers call it. You will never be a paid whore to another wealthy Dom again."

Kate keeps sighing in annoyance and tapping her foot on the floorboard. I know that it is because she is sick of this whore's non-stop crying.

"Do you cry like this when my disgusting brother-in-law is caning you? For the love of God, shut the fuck up!" She yells.

With her arms crossed, this bitch looks like a petulant teenager as she sits here glaring. Luke gets in between the two front seats, his entire upper body facing us. He looks as tired as I feel and has obviously had enough of Miss Sams and her bullshit.

"We know that when you met Mr. Grey in Portland that you were a stripper. I guess he likes his whores to not work such slutty professions and got you the job you were just canned from. Mrs. Grey feels that stripping for a living fits you well and graciously ensured that you have a job in your new home town of Kodiak up in Alaska. That is why you need a new wardrobe. We hear it is cold up there and you know you would hate for those fake tits to freeze into ice cubes and break into pieces. There are plenty of anglers up there and some military, as well, so the hole in the wall you will be shaking your ass in should stay busy. Just do not get the idea you can slip away. Kurt will not be the only unlucky bastard that has to watch over your whore ass. This night is over, so do not open your suck hole to say anything other than "Thank you, Mrs. Grey." Say. It. Now."

"Fuck you! You mother fuckers are kidnapping me and dumping me off in a fucking frozen hell and you expect me to thank her? What-fucking-ever!"

Luke manages to punch both of the front seats, causing us all to jump. I have never seen him this angry or behave this way towards a woman. If you want to call her a woman, that is. I wish that he were mad enough to shoot her.

"Never let me hear you call Mrs. Grey "her" again. She is a more or a woman than you could ever dream of being. Now thank Mrs. Grey. Say it, you fucking cunt. If you refuse, I am going to leave your ass in this dark parking lot alone. Remember that your unemployed and Mrs. Grey has seen to it that you are unemployable. You have zero dollars, no car, and no apartment. I will personally sit down with your brother and father, watch a playroom session with them, and then inform them of your chosen profession from the age of twenty until this past spring. In case you assume Grey will take you in, I promise that after tomorrow your name will be on a list that will keep you as far away from his as possible," Luke is snarling at her. "Choose wisely and do it quickly. I will drag you from that backseat and toss your ass on the ground, although I would prefer not to, considering you are probably eaten alive with STD's. The clock is ticking and I am very impatient."

Haley Sams has laid her head back on the seat and still has not replied, although she has finally stopped crying. Luke is growing angrier by the second and I am afraid if Miss Sams does not do as he ordered, he really might put her homeless ass on the streets of Seattle. I have removed myself from the cat and mouse equation and have closed my mind to everything around me. I am so tired. I do not think Miss Sams is drawing a line in the sand over Luke's demand. I would guess that she is having an internal struggle to come to grips with her life prior to Christian Grey and how her life will now be after Christian Grey. My mind goes back to those two simple words it always does when it comes to Christian-collateral damage. No… Haley Sams is not Christian's collateral damage. She was a willing participant who read that very same contract as the prior four had. They had to be monogamous; but had to agree that he was a married man, and as such, would still be fucking his dumb ass wife. The only thing revenge I should take out on Christian is castrating him for being that dumb ass wife. Blind. Stupid. Dumb. In love with him.

Then again, why should Christian be castrated over my decision to remain in his home after that first night at Escala? Dr. Swann has told me it was the ten-year-old broken Anastasia that was trying to repair the broken four-year-old Christian. Was it really? Christian showed the beast within him that night, and when Taylor came to save me, I refused to leave. Refusing to leave, I tentatively approached that beast, thinking a kiss would act as a balm to his ravaged and violent soul. However, I can now look back and admit that I was deeply sexually attracted to Christian Grey from the first moment we shook hands. That tentative kiss was much more, and perhaps the fact that I was able to look away as he destroyed his office like a mad man was because it turned me on. I admitted to Dr. Swann that our first time together was rough and I enjoyed it. Christian never made love to me, it was always pure fucking to him, it was always rough, and I enjoyed a little bit of pain that it brought. That enjoyment was what led me to allow him to take that roughness further, although refusing to give in to what he really wanted, probably what he feels he has to have. I own that. I do not apologize for enjoying that aspect of a sexual experience, to each his own. I own being terribly insecure, that Christian would return to his previous sexual lifestyle if I did not provide him with what he wanted so many things I never wanted; things I had to disassociate myself from in order to do. Ironically, enough, sacrificing my self-respect and allowing my body to be Christian's plaything was still not enough. As I was left feeling bereft and humiliated, Christian was making me and our union a joke. He never respected me, and I will never know or understand why he just did not admit he wanted something more than I would give him. Why wouldn't Christian just say I would never satisfy him and divorce me? Yes, if that would have happened, I would have been heartbroken. Nevertheless, that broken heart would never have equaled the shredded heart he eventually left me holding. The why, the what, and all of the other reasons behind Christian's excuses for dragging my life and sanity through hell these past years do not matter. They do not concern or consume me. They are what they are, and they have nothing to do with who Ana is. They are who Christian Grey is, and I honestly do not give a fuck about him or his reasons. During our time together, Christian disregarded my intelligence. What he will discover tomorrow is how terribly wrong he always was- I have been two steps in front of him since April.

Once again, it is Luke's raised and annoyed voice that shakes me out of my thoughts. Turning to my left, I see that both Kate and Luke have exited the SUV and are impassively looking at Haley Sams, who remains in her seat with her head laid back. The intensity of our emotions has left the three of us weary. This is over and we never want to lay our eyes on this excuse for a human being again. Luke's need for her to thank me remains, although I do not care to even hear her voice. Luke just wants to humiliate her; I just want her gone. Finally, she sits up and starts to exit the vehicle. Katherine puts her hand on her chest and stops her.

"Thank Mrs. Grey for her generosity." Luke exclaims. "I have never struck a woman Miss Sams…" He trails off, gritting his teeth.

Likely feeling a violent hostility rolling off Katherine in waves and resigning herself to her fate, Christian's submissive reluctantly turns to me. Haley Sams looks scared and tears are pouring from her eyes, as she is surely uncertain of what she is facing. Her hatred for me remains on her face, but she stands there stoically. She must be aware that her so-called apology should not sound bitchy or sarcastic, since her words are bland and empty.

"Thank you, Mrs. Grey," She says. "Before I leave, may I ask what you will want from me after this year of exile?"

Kate scoffs at her question and spares me from having to give her the time of day by speaking to her again.

"Sams, let me answer your question," She replies tiredly. "This comes from every single person that loves Ana…We. Do. Not. Give. A. Fuck."

With that, Samuel, who helps her into the backseat of his SUV, meets a defeated and sobbing Haley Sams. She is off to meet her destiny. A destiny brought upon herself due to her personal choices.

Miss Sams exits my presence, my life, and more importantly, my mind. I no longer have to concern myself with her, and if this is cruel of me or not, I honestly wish her nothing but the worst.

Luke does not leave the parking lot until Samuel's SUV is out of sight, and then he heads back to the Fairmont. Squeezing my hand, Kate sighs and lays her head on my shoulder.

We may be making our way to a hotel, but I am making my way toward tomorrow.

Making my way to him.

Anna's note: I know that I said I was going to divide this into 2 chapters. After my good friend, graypearls set me straight that a reader would either be riveted to the story and ignore the length, or could get up and take a break, (I adore her SO much) I just said screw it and left the story as is. This chapter's length has me curious if this next and final chapter will even be this long. However, you read it, I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think.


	25. Chapter 25

_**As usual, I wrote another novella, in fact the longest chapter ever, &amp; have divided it into three chapters. The chapter became three because I could not decide on the chapter's title, &amp; graypearls suggested one that turned out perfect in the end, one that consisted of three words. Once it was obvious that what I had written was simply too long, those three words gave me the idea to split the chapter into three ones. Each chapter's title is one of those three words &amp; I found that each one describes the chapter perfectly. _

_I plan to post the other two chapters tomorrow &amp; Thursday, although y'all know my crazy life &amp; something could change that. So please don't yell at me if the next chapter isn't updated until Thursday. _

_I know I always put my little notes at the end of a chapter, but since these are the final ones, I wanted to have the chapter left in your mind &amp; not my inane blah, blah, blahing. That is why I am blah, blah, blahing before the chapter starts._

_Remember that after I get a few days of comments, reviews, tantrums, complaints, &amp; rants, that I will address them in a review. _

_I also want to say that Christian &amp; Ana will have separate epilogues. _

_A special thank you to my friend, graypearls, &amp; a huge thank you to every loyal reader the story has had.-Anna**_

_With that said, here is the beginning to the conclusion of my little story..._

All rights to the characters and story of FSoG belong to E. L. James.

_**Thursday, September 24th, 2015 **_

_Vancouver, Washington _

_Ana's POV _

_**Realizations**_

Christian was staring at it with his patented, impassive expression and his hard-set gray eyes were scrutinizing it.

There was no doubt that what I had done was confusing as hell, yet everyone had to have realized that I must have done it for a

specific reason.

Not a soul in the room dared to utter a word. Our surroundings felt like a movie that someone had set on pause.

Three pairs of bemused eyes locked upon it, each weighing its possible significance. Maybe each pair of those eyes wondered if it was a

sign of a looming and impending doom.

Sporting a now yellowing bruise on his right jaw from Elliot's fist, Christian had stopped twirling his Mont Blanc pen between his fingers as he gazed at it. I stood directly across the conference table from where he was sitting- where I had tossed it at him. Of course, he would probably have no idea what it was, or what it meant, but it was a mere introduction of what was to come. The introduction of a story…our story… and how it ended.

With a raised eyebrow, Christian raised his eyes to mine. His were hard, while mine had to have been gleaming with amusement.

This would be Christian's funeral or my rebirth. I would soon have the answer.

"_I do not relish this, Bee."_

"_Ana, I know. Nevertheless, before we enter this room, remember some very important facts. Sweetheart, he does not care. Grey does not think about you at night. He does not search for your face in a crowded room. He has probably forgotten the color of your eyes, despite once telling you they were the most beautiful pair he had ever seen. Christian Grey probably does not even speak your name or miss you. He does not remember how it felt to kiss your lips or how you taste. Darling, he does not care about you, and if you walk into that room with your head hung low, and shoulders slumped, you are only making his ego bigger and your self-worth smaller. Ana, he does not love you, and from what I have seen and know, he never did. I am so sorry to say this shit to you, but I do for a reason, and you know what that reason is."_

Bee's words startled my mind, confused me, and I could feel them soak my veins. I walked into the conference room, sandwiched between Bee and Allison, to sit across a large table, with my blue eyes locked on my enemy.

The soul crusher; the reason that sometimes all I can do is lay in bed, hoping to fall asleep before falling apart. Christian's eyes never left me as I crossed the room, and I refused to break eye contact first. Those eyes I swear that I am over, although sometimes it is still hard to breathe if a passerby wears the same cologne as Christian, or when I hear his name. I have learned to live without the man I thought that I had married, but my heart still breaks when I remember those early days, and the way THAT man looked at me. Then all I have to do is remember that who I thought was Christian never existed. I met and married a mirage. He was not real. He did not exist. He was an animated Prince Charming. I hallucinated the life that I had thought I was living. I often find myself comatose as I imagine all of the loss that I am still unaware of.

Painful and boring legal bullshit went back and forth, burning my ears until I felt like flipping the table over. As expected, Christian had offered me a settlement that would reach the moon. At that point, he remained blissfully unaware that I did not care about the moon. I was reaching for the stars.

When I had reached my point of no longer caring to pretend, turned the final corner of listening to marriage - ending legalities, I could not sit there passively any longer. Neither Bee or Allison was surprised, in fact, they were waiting for it. The course of direction had changed. I hung up my kindness, which I had perfectly displayed on my self-imposed walls.

"Do you know what that is, Christian?" I ask him softly, probably too softly. I sure as fuck do not want to sound submissive. I watch the patented, impassive expression refuse to yield, although I cannot decipher what emotion he may be hiding behind those beautiful gray eyes.

Sighing as though he is bored, he pauses before answering.

"Yes, Anastasia. It is a white silk blouse that is covered in something that appears orange that obviously dried on it," He replies. His voice is quiet and dismissive. "I don't see the point of your throwing it at me and I am puzzled by your need to be publicly dramatic and to embarrass yourself."

His disparaging mouth does not bother me. It does not break my heart. My heartbreak did not express itself as crying in my darkened bedroom with blood - stained wrists. It was never about eating a pint of Ben and Jerry's and listening to what was supposedly our favorite song. My heartbreak was the night's no one knows about. Drinking shots of vodka trying to fill that hole Christian left in me. It was crying in the bathtub like a fool because the thought of him made me lose my grip on reality. For me, heartbreak was not eating for days on end, refusing to go into the office. It was lying and covering up my agony from Kate and Luke. It was crying in my sleep for days, weeks, and months. Heartbreak was many things to me, but unlike Sylvia Plath's heartbreak, mine was never beautiful or poetic. It was fucking painful, and nothing ever ends poetically anyway.

"Dramatic, Christian? This is far from being a drama. Consider that white silk blouse as the beginning of show and tell."

Christian never looks at the blouse again or shows the slightest bit of curiosity, but before he can reply, interrupts him.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Darlington, Ms. Kendall, and of course, Mrs. Grey. I must say we are a bit confused at what is transpiring here. I must ask…"

Bee Darlington smiles at her colleague, but waves him off with a flick of a hand.

"Mr. Faulk, we know that in these meetings, each party can have their say, along with the opportunity to hammer out their own settlements. Ana is simply using her right to have her voice heard, a right your client has as well. This is Ana having her say, whether you are confused or not." She says with a clear and patronizing tone.

Bee Darlington had already told me Faulk was a complete prick.

"Of course, Mrs. Darlington. I am sorry to have interrupted you, Mrs. Grey." He says in a kind tone, nodding at me as if I need his permission to continue.

I cross my arms, locking blue eyes to gray, and twist my lips into a smirk. Christian is all business and regards me with amusement. He is trying to intimidate me so I will back down. He is daring me to try to challenge his control over the situation. His precious control…what he needs…has to have. Right now, everything has been running smoothly. I know what Christian has been thinking, "Ana's sat here quietly, waiting to see how much money that I am going to throw her way." I have no doubt that Christian believes throwing money across the table means that he is the one with the upper hand. It is apparent that he has zero doubt that he is the one in control. If I challenge Christian, and manage to strip him of his beloved control, how would he react? Christian's control will be bare; bare like a tree that has been stripped of its bark, as a tornado rips it away. I am that tornado and we will see what happens once I do strip that control away.

Even a King can fall to his knees.

"It was April third, a Friday. It was when I held my editors meetings three times a week, from noon until two. Only that day, I canceled the meeting and had Luke bring me lunch. While I waited for Luke to come back, I saw that you had sent me a text at exactly eleven-fifty. There is no doubt about the time you sent it because I saved the text. I replied to you immediately, although you never answered. In fact, you did not reply at all…as in the rest of the day. When you finally contacted me, it was in the late afternoon, and when I asked you why you never answered my text, you claimed that you had been in meetings all day, and then told me you had simply forgotten. When I brought up that I had also called your cell phone, and that it went straight to voice mail, you lied and told me that was because you had Andrea charging your cell for you." I begin, pointing at the blouse. "I'll fill you in on how I know that you lied momentarily."

As I begin informing Christian the details of a day that he probably does not remember, I am forced to look at the grisly wounds that day left me with. Those wounds left scars that continue to heal, and now I have to live with the wounds that I have inflicted on others. I have my own lies to atone.

"That white silk blouse is covered with the French salad dressing I spilled all over myself. Of course, I had to have a new shirt. Later that afternoon, I told you that Luke went to a boutique near Grey Publishing to purchase me a new one, but I lied. I am sure you do not recall this day whatsoever. Perhaps this will jog your memory; it was the day I was so sick with a migraine and we changed our weekend plans of going out on The Grace. Since those plans had to be changed, I talked you into going fishing with your father and Elliot instead. It was also the day that you were pretending to be concerned over my so-called horrendous migraine, and for some insane reason that no one understands, you told me you wanted us to try to have a baby. Seriously, Christian, a baby? What in the hell prompted you to say something so preposterous? Did you really believe that I would want to give birth to Rosemary's baby? Jesus! Anyway, I say so-called migraine because I did not have one; I lied about that as well. Do you remember any of that?"

Something passes through Christian's eyes, yet leaves no trace as to what it is. His poker face remains, but we both know the monumental meaning that I mentioned my editors meetings. I catch Christian's eyes as they land on my now bare left ring finger. The platinum band I slipped on his finger on a gorgeous May afternoon is still there, but I know he only wore it because Kate tipped off the media concerning our impending divorce, along with this meetings day and location. He could not be photographed fighting the throngs of media that are outside the building and not be wearing his wedding ring. I know that Christian always wants to appear like the aloof, yet good humanitarian, despite being an arrogant, sick, and self-centered asshole. But I suppose we all have some sort of fake image that we feel burdened to uphold.

Christian cocks his head to the side and looks amused. I slip him a knowing look, one that tells him I know he is anything but amused. I am also not a joke that he should find amusing. Christian will discover that I finally escaped the forest of ignorance where I had taken up residence. I am now a paradox—a woman not so easily figured out. I will ride this out, land with grace, and land with style.

"I take your silence to mean that you do not recall that day or you're simply playing dumb. I believe it is the latter. That means shit to me, so let us get back to the most interesting parts of that day. Luke drove me to Escala so I could get a new shirt. We parked, and then Luke made note that Taylor's SUV, the one you had left our home in that morning, was parked two spaces beside us," I tell him in a flat tone. "We both thought it very strange, strange indeed."

Christian's attorney, Mr. Kirkland coughs and it slices through my words. My words that are ascending to a place Christian will not enjoy arriving at. I hid my pride there and decorated it with Christian's shame.

Christian shows his hand first by pushing his chair back an inch or so and crosses his legs. It is another tactic I have seen him use on someone he deems inferior and wants them to bow down to him. It is a pity that I am not that person. His action demonstrates he knows where I am headed, and the heat his eyes are glowing with is a warning for me to shut up. I know Christian is trying to bore a hole in my head to see if I will expose him, daring me to try, and demanding I shut my mouth. I do not have to imagine what he is thinking, "Shut up, Anastasia. They will know what I am."

That thought makes me want to smile, and I have to fight to keep my face from giving in. I cock my head to the side as he always does. Christian will understand I am mocking him, which will infuriate him further. I care far too little about that.

"I believe it was one o'clock… or maybe a few minutes after when we arrived at Escala. My confusion over your SUV being there had me call your cell phone; but it went straight to voice mail. I called it a second time, and once again, it went straight to voice mail. It was then I realized you had turned it off," I say, my voice strong and confident. "Then I called your office, and yet again you didn't answer and the call rolled to Andrea's desk. However, luckily for me, Olivia answered since Andrea had gone to lunch."

I pause in a most exaggerated fashion and meet those impenetrable gray eyes. There is not a doubt that the burning fury that is unfurling inside me has turned my cerulean blue eyes to a dark and uncompromising shade that is only found on an oceans floor. I want Christian to quickly realize that the elaborate game of making Ana into a goddamn fool is dissolving. Dissolving like sugar does in the rain.

"We both know Olivia and how I intimidate her, don't we Christian? She has always had that uncanny inability to not divulge information that typically causes havoc. It is quite funny how much that trait of Olivia's personality used to grate on me, and now I adore her for it."

Faulk and Kirkland appear as though they are watching the US Open, their eyes rapidly darting from their boss to me. Both appear to be swimming in a pool of confusion. They share expressions that ask what in the hell is going on. However, it is obvious their interest has been piqued.

Christian's cold and hardened eyes are attacking me. They are swinging canes, laying down blows from a belt, and when his favorite toys do not work, Christian picks up an assault rifle and starts shooting. I am no longer being warned to shut up; I am being ordered to do so. If this son of a bitch were not such a seasoned demon that lacked emotion and expression, we would be watching him force a gag ball around my mouth or breaking my neck.

I walk to the table's edge and nonchalantly sit down on it. We are so close that I could reach out and touch him.

"Anastasia, no one present wants to hear your… bedtime story. I have offered you a generous settlement, and if you would accept it and sign the papers, this matter can be laid to rest." He replies in a disinterested tone.

"Mr. Grey, I will tell my so-called bedtime story, whether you want to hear it or not. I'll have Bee or Allison tell your attorney what I think about your generous settlement offer."

As Bee readies herself to speak, my eyes settle on Christian's face, awaiting the delight I will feel once her words hit his ears. I wait on Christian's reaction, a reaction I am positive that I have seen hundreds of times. It is now that I recall my recent realization that I have been like a leech that latched onto Christian's personality, and sucked too much of it, leaving me to behave the way he does. I can say that it occurred in that manner, or through goddamn mitosis, although it does not fucking matter or bother me. Without it, I would still be that mess on Katherine's sofa months earlier. I was a listless ghost who had no idea how to function. I am actually grateful for Christian and the strength he imparted upon me. He taught me the strategic way to think, how decisions should be made from your gut, and without Christian's killer instincts, I would be lost. He taught me the art of war.

Bee seems to be taking her own interminable time before informing Christian and his affluent, Conservative Republican fuck lawyers what my response to his offer is. It is then that I realize I never moved my eyes off Christian's face after they settled upon it waiting for his reaction. I find that my eyes are now roaming his face and taking in just how beautiful he is. I am not sure why. I am not interested in burning it into my memory, or storing it for later use. I have always known that the two of us will occasionally run into one another at some boring business event, or charity gala. I will have to look at this man for who knows how long.

I also know that you never forget the face of the one who shredded you to pieces.

"Mr. Kirkland, Mr. Faulk. On behalf of our client, we decline Mr. Grey's offer." Bee says in her do not fuck with me voice.

Seconds pass. Bee's statement has rendered them speechless. Christian narrows his eyes at me. I know what word is sitting on the tip of his brain: pre-nup. In addition, it is more than apparent that the lack of a pre-nup has Kirkland and Faulk up in arms. Christian Grey, the financial guru, must be measuring that fact, and adding the sudden and unexpected revelation of what it appears that I know, along that I have known it for quite some time. He is surely adding more money to that settlement, thinking a larger amount will shut me up, bring me to heel. Christian knew from the very start of our hellish time together that I did not give two shits that he was a billionaire, and that is why he refused to have a pre-nup drawn up. Since finding out the truth about Christian, I have always wondered why he even took the chance to be unfaithful, knowing I could take him to the cleaners. That is an odd fact that even Carrick cannot understand.

"Ladies, I believe we can all see that Mr. Grey's settlement offer is more than sufficient…" Mr. Kirkland starts to say before I whip my head to him scowling, and I growl at him.

"Trust that no offer will be sufficient, Mr. Kirkland. Isn't that right, Mr. Grey?" I bite at my husband. My teeth are shards of ice. "Yes, Christian. I know you are all thinking we do not have a pre-nup, but that is irrelevant right now. I am not done discussing that day this past April, the one that I never saw coming. I have a lot to share about that day. It all happened so quickly, yet I discovered so much."

Honestly, I do not give a shit that the temperature in the room is now below zero or that Christian's impeccably dressed lawyers look as if they are going to shit in their pants. These suits may be feeling a bit frosty, but I am warm and comfortable surrounded in all of this truth and deceit.

"Olivia told me everything that day, Christian. The two-hour lunches you took three times a week. Each day that happened to coincide with my two-hour meetings. She told me ev-e-ry-thing. I saw the red Audi since it was parked right beside us. I immediately knew what that red Audi was screaming at me. The license plate was traced, and I know who bought it, and registered it. I also saw the list of women never to be allowed near me, and knew exactly who they were. I remembered some of those names from your ... files. You had told me about the fifteen well - paid whores prior to our marriage and I noted this little list our security carries has the names of twenty well -paid whores." I spew at Christian, every piece of my hatred landing all over him like vomit. "I know that the five other women were added to your little list after our marriage…I even know how soon after our marriage that the sixteenth name was added ... as in the exact day you signed your ... contract. Fuck, Christian…You barely let the ink on our marriage license dry before making your way to that sordid little club in Manhattan."

Silence.

Christian begins rubbing his bottom lip with one of his index fingers. Perhaps he is attempting to distract me, or using that boy genius mind of his to decide the best way to maneuver through this minefield. I know how he thinks. He is taking into account what I know, and he is now contemplating my next move. I learned from the best and sit ramrod straight on the table, my face blank and eyes dead. If he is waiting for me to crack and give him a hint of what is to befall him, he will be waiting for an entire lifetime.

"Anastasia…" Christian begins, but I shut him down quickly when I remove three pictures from an envelope that Allison had given to me.

I toss the photos on the table. They are from the day after I found out the truth, the day Luke got me into Escala and I bore witness to what Christian and Haley Sams left behind in his playroom. A day that will be ingrained in my memory forever. Christian studies them quickly, realizes what they are, and eyes Bee and Allison. Christian has realized that there are two additional names to add to the list of who knows what a sick bastard he actually is. Christian directs his attention back to me.

"Anastasia, we should discuss this privately," He says quietly. "Talking about this now isn't appropriate."

I see pure rage pouring from Christian, pooling around his feet, and I watch him pick up the photographs, turning them over and placing them in the inside pocket of the jacket of his custom-made suit. The tension emitting between us has a heart and lungs of its own. I created it and Christian is looking for a way to kill it, as he killed a part of me, leaving me rolling in my own blood and then walking away. Standing, all I can do is stare at him. He wants to discuss this in private because right now is not fucking appropriate? As if anything about our time together has been appropriate. Christian thinks he can snap his fingers and I will follow him to some private room to listen to his bullshit lies. Does he believe I will jump as high as he demands or allow him to boss me around? If we talk privately, it will be because I decide to, not because Christian orders me to.

The longer I stand and stare at him my brain strains itself in effort to study him. During these past months, I have been at odds with myself when I came to terms with my so-called husband and his actions. I shoved my own pain and feelings of inadequacy down my own throat as I did my best to swallow my vulnerability. I was thrown into the pit of truth when it came to Christian and our years together. While I remained stuck inside that pit, I had to intimately grasp the knowledge that there was never a Christian and Ana Grey. Mr. and Mrs. Christian Grey never existed.

The ironic thing about Christian and me was the fact that I always knew that I would never be enough for him. There was never a doubt that he would one day seek out some slut who would let him beat her. I knew that as a fact all the way through my body. Despite all of that time feeling inadequate and like a complete failure, I never saw how right I had been, or how long I had been a fucking idiot.

To discover that the one person whom you love more than life does not love you at all is mind numbingly cold. That discovery and that numbness I bore, pushed me to accept that Christian was a fraud that did not love me, and as Bee reminded me earlier, he probably never loved me at all. Motherfucker. I KNEW all of this shit already. I purposely played these facts over in my mind until it was nearly bleeding. However, did I ever really FEEL it or ACCEPT it in my heart? Did I ever let it SINK into my soul? Katherine never opened her mouth and said, "You've been a fool and Christian has never loved you." Although Bee Darlington just stepped up and without preamble pointed out the obvious. I have reminded myself intellectually what Christian really is, and how much of a love sick and blinded fool that I was, but holy fuck ... I never really did swallow my vulnerability and it has remained a gaping wound. That vulnerability left my heart closed off to accepting the truth. I have been more than a fool.

I have been a goddamn idiot, and I let my fucking logic override my heart. It has suddenly occurred to me that it just took Bee's words to finally shine a light on that.

As this revelation screeches to a halt in my mind, I have retreated to the time where I felt everything I did was wrong and not good enough. I have been thrown so far back into that feeling that it is as if it is happening right now. What does Dr. Swann call it? Oh, yes, a feeling flashback. Well, if this is what remembering a feeling is like, Dr. Swann can shove it up her ass. I feel winded, as I did when I turned my head and first saw that whore's red Audi. God damn, why is this happening to me? Why am I feeling like that again? Suddenly, I feel that all too familiar pain in my heart. My heart is actually hurting as I stand here. I have cruelly had the fact that I miss being happy slammed into my face. I fucking miss myself; whoever the fuck that I was. Where has this come from? I honestly thought I was doing okay, but now I am in Christian's presence and everything has crashed on top of me again. It is that same suffocating torture that I thought I was over.

But my fucking God, I am drowning again.

I slowly shake my head at Christian, and the wall I have built around my determination to never ask Christian WHY, begins to crack. Realizing that I have intellectually hidden from the truth is stirring up a deep sense of loss. My body tenses as questions begin to choke me. I know Christian and he will never tell me the truth. There is nothing that I could say to Christian that would matter or affect him, nor would it make me feel better. I damn well know these truths; however, I have wondered about so many things and have craved explanations for so long. The logical side of my brain realizes that no matter what I ask, or what I even say to him will not matter. Yet here I am, eyes filling with frustrated tears and looking at the stranger I once lived for. Why my weakness has suddenly been exposed is something I cannot explain. I do not bother fighting my heated need to speak, as I feel a single tear run down my cheek.

"I tried so hard. You know that, right? I tried harder than you will ever know. I would have done anything for you, Christian. Anything except allow you to physically hurt me, and you fucking knew why and did not give a shit. Do you know that when I found out our marriage was a joke that I still desperately wanted to return to the previous day when I did not know it was one? I wanted to run to you and beg you to kiss me. To wail and cry, beg you to please, please, tell me this is not true. I wanted to return to our fake marriage, with you pretending to be normal, and for you to still be mine. But I couldn't do that. I had to accept you had never been mine in the first place," I breathe. "Why did you marry me, Christian? What did I ever do to you to deserve what you have done to me?"

The impenetrable mask that Christian has been wearing falls from his face. His gray eyes soften. He looks like the Christian I thought that I had known, the man I had fallen in love with yet now know that Christian was never who he claimed to be. This living, breathing human being before me is nothing but an imposter, but I wish that I could somehow get him to tell me the truth. I want Christian to tell me the truth about my life with him because I know nothing about it. I watch Christian's face and posture change before me, and knowing it is probably a manipulative trick, I feel compelled to just ask … everything … anything. I feel like a dog waiting for a table scrap as I stare at this man before me. Christian is the man who holds the answers to all of my questions, the man I want to unleash all of my raw emotions on. I would willingly torture him to the point of his death if he would only tell me the truth, just fucking tell me why.

I have told myself repeatedly that Christian will never give me an answer or explanation that I will believe, although now I no longer care if I never really get honesty or closure. Now I just want to open my mouth and feel these questions roll off my tongue, regardless of what he says. I want to stare him straight in the eye and say everything I have longed to for so long, whether he cares or not. I do not feel this way because I see a tad of what is undoubtedly fake remorse on Christian's face, or that he is no longer in a defensive stance. I am about to willingly open myself up to danger. I am going to take a chance and allow myself to be vulnerable, to give Christian another chance to rip me apart. If this is a fuck up, it will not be my first or my last. I know that Katherine would kill me if she were in this room.

My eyes are resting on the jacket of Christian's suit, knowing it contains the pocket where he put the sickening playroom pictures. Without looking away or even bothering to wipe the angry tears running down my cheeks, I open my mouth and do not recognize my own voice.

"I would like to speak with Christian privately."

Seconds of surprised silence pass before I vaguely hear our respective legal teams say, "Of course" and excuse themselves from the room. The door quietly shuts behind them and without looking at Christian, I sit down. He says nothing but almost looks cautious as he takes a seat directly across from mine. My mind is scrambled from what is happening and from what might happen, and I rest my face in my hands. I absentmindedly wonder what Luke and Tom must be thinking from where they are positioned outside the door. I imagine Luke grinding his teeth, wondering what in the fuck is going on, and restraining himself from bursting into the room. Hell, I am even wondering what in the fuck is going on.

"I just want a private moment with you, Christian, and to try and figure out if you are real or just a horrific memory. I know that we were never real, and that I have been a blind, deaf mute, and a stranger in my own life. What I wish you would tell me is what I did so terribly wrong that you chose to destroy me."

"You didn't do anything to me, Anastasia. You did nothing to deserve this," Christian's voice is quiet and strained. "I don't even know what to say to you. There are no adequate words, and if I am completely honest, my fucked up mind is split in so many directions, I cannot articulate a sensible word right now. I wish I had words for you. I fucking wish I had words that would make some goddamn sense of…this. But I just don't."

I really do not want to lift my face from my hands and look at him, although I must. Christian's elbows are resting on the table, head lowered, and he is holding on to the back of his neck with both hands. This man is a complete stranger, and I am still searching for who I have become. However, we were once something, and the only way we can be finally be nothing is through brutality and surrendering to the truth. I do not fathom another way to draw one ounce of honesty from Christian Grey other than brutal honesty, although I am so fucking ignorant of how to accomplish that. What more could he possibly do to hurt me? We certainly have nothing left to lose, so I do not comprehend why he would be so reticent to be honest.

"Be brave, Christian. For once in your life be brave and tell the truth."

He does not respond immediately, only lifts his head enough for his eyes to meet mine. Those beautiful, yet deceitful gray eyes I once lost myself in are now wide and raw, but I know that rawness could be an insidious trick, or some spiteful maneuver for his own benefit.

"I have told the truth once in my life, Anastasia. There isn't a point in saying when that time was…You wouldn't believe me." Christian says softly.

"Who knows that I won't?" I ask, shrugging my shoulders. "It is obvious where you are headed with this, and I don't see why you are clamming up now, Christian. I do not need flowers to remind me that you love me not."

Christian's self-imposed silence nudges words into my mouth. They come from a book that I would read to him before we married, and I did my damndest to tell this man he was worthy of love. That no matter what he had done in his past, he was still worthy of love. Perhaps he will remember them and be reminded of their meaning. Maybe they will uncover a sprig of decency within this man that will allow him to spit out simple answers to simple questions.

"You tried to change didn't you? Closed your mouth more. T_r_ied to be softer. Prettier. Less volatile, less awake. But even sleeping you could feel him traveling away from you in his dreams. So what did you want to do love? Split his head open? You can't make homes out of human beings. Someone should have already told you that. And if he wants to leave, then let him leave. You are terrifying and strange and beautiful.

Something not everyone knows how to love."

The corners of Christian's lips curl up slightly, and he finally sits up. A rare, small smile on his mouth reminds me of the Antichrist. I look at his expensive and custom-made suit, knowing that the money he has to buy such material things only makes him look good on the outside. His money, all of that material shit he owns, they do nothing to make Christian's insides look good. That money cannot cover up whatever it is that drives him further into the dark. Christian's wealth cannot undo whatever it was that made him dark.

"The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. It is one of your favorites."

"I can't believe you remember."

"How could I ever forget?" He murmurs.

Both of our voices sound defeated. If there is anything left in these final and private words to one another, it is defeat. Simple and pure defeat.

"Tell me, Christian. Just tell me and maybe I will believe you."

He remains slumped over on his elbows and looks at me apprehensively. He reminds me of a child that is waiting to be scolded by his mother.

Shaking my head to rid it of his probable bullshit attitude and words, I look away, staring at a bookshelf full of huge books that probably contain very boring legal shit. A long while passes before I look back at him, as I wonder why he has not asked me about the pictures that I gave him. He is probably only speaking with me like this to placate me while he waits to attack me. I know him…He will eventually start demanding answers that I will be so willingly to give.

He remains quiet.

"You never answered my question. When was the only time you have spoken the truth?" I ask. "You might think you don't owe me an answer, but I think I deserve one."

Christian exhales a long breath, looks me dead in my eyes, and shakes his head. I wait, wondering if that means he still refuses to tell me. Christian knows that I will not believe him, and truth be told, I won't.

"I told the truth in the beginning, Anastasia. From the first time I told you that I loved you, until the very second the monster came back out," He replies. "Anastasia, you would lose your mind trying to understand mine."

His pathetic and self-loathing excuse infuriates me. I furiously scan his face for sincerity or remorse. Something to be a balm to all of my wounds. I read a lot from his expression, the outward display on his face. However, there is no sincerity or remorse. As I already knew, I do not believe him. Deciding not to tell him so, I still dig for a bone of information or insight, some goddamn explanation that I will not believe even if he offered me one. This must indicate that I am a masochist.

"The monster came back out? I assume you're referring to the very same monster you told me about at the very start of…this joke," I reply, gesturing between the two of us. "You're still using that same excuse for your choices? Are you still telling yourself that you have a disease that drives you to beat and fuck women who look like dear old mom? That very same disease you claimed I cured you of?"

Bitterness is now simmering in my veins, and while I admit what I am doing as I sit across from Christian is detrimental to me, I remain in my seat and give him a chance to twist my spirit a little more. I have no reasonable explanation why I am doing this to myself, although I refuse to back down at this point. Fuck him. Maybe I can utter one word that will stick on his brain, or burn into his soul. I have become desperate to locate a syllable that will loosen Christian's grip over controlling his ability to spew nothing but lies.

I recognize a glint of anger in his eyes, and he clenches his jaws. Ah, there he is. However, if he is holding back anger, I cannot hear it in his words.

"Anastasia, you saw what I am the first night we were together at the penthouse. I introduced you to the monster that night! There is no longer a reason for us to deny the sick shit I did to you! We both damn well know what I was slowly trying to mold you into! Anastasia, I saw that part of you that enjoyed sticking your toes into my murky water, and I craved to throw you right into it. The moment I laid eyes on you, I saw pure sexuality radiating off you, and I had to have a taste of you. It was like an aura around you, and once I knew you better and discovered your natural curiosity, I knew I could use them in my favor…make you enjoy what I could do to you. Make you want me to do it to you, and goddamn, you did. Yet, I could never take you as far as I wanted to. You would kill me with your bare hands if you knew the vile things that I did to you! Do you honestly think that anything but a monster would do that shit to their fucking wife?" He says fiercely. "I know that I am a demented sadist that thrives on destroying others along with me. I do not deserve a good or decent thing in the world because I am far from good, and I do not have a decent bone in my body. I am good for two fucking things in life, and that is making money and beating the shit out of women. That is all I will ever be, and the only thing I am worth."

I stare at this twisted bastard incredulously. Christian is either an Oscar winning actor or a fucking pity party on two legs. Perhaps he is both, or maybe a sociopath running a billion dollar empire. There is no way in hell I am going to sit here and acknowledge or agree with his excuses or pardon his choices. What he did prior to meeting and marrying me was a consensual choice. Yes, he lied and buried it from the world, probably due to shame, although returning to his previous lifestyle was not consensual after our marriage because I fucking never consented to it. Me - Ana Grey, his goddamn fucking wife. Christian never had me sign a contract that gave him permission to fuck whores as well as fucking me. He made millions of choices during our marriage, each selfish and self-serving, yet he still covers them with excuses. There is no monster making these choices for Christian, he chooses to be a coward and hide behind his same pathetic bullshit.

"Christian, I am truly sorry that this goddamn world did not spin in your favor and wasn't kind to you. You have no idea how sorry I am that you have allowed yourself to be so cruel, and I hope one day you might admit to yourself that YOU are the one who chooses to be cruel. However, right now, you are still a fucking pussy, and can hide behind your stacks of gold, and hate yourself for all I care! Who hurt you so much that you actually hate yourself? Was it your birth mother? You do realize half of the fucking world has been traumatized by their childhood? You do remember a woman named Carla, don't you? What she practically allowed to happen to me when I was a ten-year-old child, and then tossed me out, condoning it? Have you ever known me to be vicious to others over that, or wanted to abuse and torture someone because of what happened to me? Fuck no, you haven't! Are you this way because of Elena Lincoln? On the other hand, was it a buy one get one free type of thing between those two women? What you do not know, Christian, is that I know you are this way due to both of them. One allowed you to be tortured physically and mentally, and then when you were fifteen, another bitch tortured you in the same way and you fucking enjoyed it! Do you find that as fucked up as I do? I ask, my voice growing louder. "Do you know what you need, Christian? A psychiatrist. A goddamn psychiatrist who will allow you to bleed all over his office. Someone who will indulge you, and let you scream out your pain in his office and not in your own head. I still do not understand why Grace and Carrick never recognized that you needed help, but they are not to blame for whom you chose to become. Use that mind of yours that cannot be that fucking brilliant, and be a fucking man. For the love of God, Christian, act like an adult who takes responsibility for his decisions. Grow the fuck up!"

I abruptly stand, causing my chair to crash to the floor. I pace the room and wrap my arms around myself protectively. With a hammering heart and a mind that is upside down and reeling, all I want to do is flee from this room. Flee from him. However, the fucking walls are sucking me in and I do not have the strength to fight them. I know that Christian is still sitting down, and even with my back to him, I can feel his eyes on me. It is through some kind of miracle that he is still in control of his emotions, and not raging at me or destroying the room. He can go fuck himself with whatever is keeping him from replying to me, or what may be holding his fury at bay. All that I know is that I am not done spitting the venomous truth at him even if he fucking beats me to death. Breathe Ana, you have this, take a fortifying breath and finish screaming the agony you deserve to rid yourself of. Christian does not deserve to look at my face as my rage splits me into pieces. I am splitting into the pieces of what used to be healthy oxygen carrying hemoglobin and red blood cells that surged through my body. The oxygen that kept my heart honest, open, and never capable of the vindictive shit that I have done. All of the healthy and clean blood and oxygen one has to have in order to live was turned into rock hard, blackened asphalt. However, right now, a jackhammer is blasting its way through that asphalt and pieces of it are flying across the room.

I keep my back to Christian and just let it out.

"Did it make you feel good to hurt me and know that what I thought was love was really hell? When you held me, did you enjoy knowing that I was oblivious to the fact that you did not love me? Did you ever love me? Shit, did you ever even like me? I ask myself this shit because I cannot think of anything else! Why in the hell these questions ever cross my mind is a mystery since I know that you are too fucking sick to have felt any of those things! When we first met that day at the Fairmont, you reminded me of lustful sin, the kind of man Ray warned me about. Everything I never really wanted, yet secretly desired. You were so goddamn bad for me, but fuck me if you did not taste like bliss. It turned out you were nothing but the swing of a cane that tortured me and then left me black and blue! I fucking hate myself more than I will ever hate you because I allowed myself to be your fool, to not listen to my instincts when it came to you! That I never listened to Kate when she told me that she could see you for the sick fuck you are! To answer the question that I know you are asking yourself, yes, Kate knows what you are. She knows everything! Did you actually believe your stupid NDA meant shit to me, Christian? I knew you wouldn't sue me once I knew the truth about you, and what would you have gotten from me anyway? My student loans? You were a goddamn idiot! Christian fucking Grey…You are background noise in my head that will not goddamn leave. Just get out of my head, Christian! Go the fuck away and stop sucking the life out of me. God fucking damn, it was you who did this to me…traumatized me, left me with skid marks across my back…"

I hear the son of a bitch get up and know that he is crossing the room toward me. I can smell his stench and taste the garbage that he truly is.

"Anastasia, please calm down." He says with a low and even tone.

I spin around to find that Christian is standing much too close to me. The unmitigated gall of this cocky bastard knows no bounds.

"Calm down? Christian, are you serious? How do you suggest I manage to calm the fuck down? How? Tell me how? I earned this moment and the right to say this shit when I found out what you were doing to me! Jesus Christ, Christian! Why didn't you just divorce me? You certainly never loved me, much less gave a flying fuck about my existence, so why, why, why, didn't you just leave me? Sure, that would have hurt me, and broken my heart, but mother fucking God, Christian! This! This…What you did, what you fucking did to me! It was the kind of cruelty you find at the deepest level of hell, the type of betrayal that can fuck someone up so badly they may never recover. You of all people should understand being fucked up beyond all recognition, so that is what I cannot wrap my head around. Why did you set out to carve my heart out of my chest?" I yell at the top of my lungs.

My body is shaking from a mixture of my long held rage and a heart-rattling urge to commit murder.

Christian's dumb fuck mouth cannot say anything, explain anything, or sugar coat anything. We both know and accept his actions for what they were, although I still want to know why he did not walk away and divorce me.

"Tell me why you did not just leave me, Christian. I will not ask why you played with my heart over having children and lied about starting a family, or how you mentally abused me when it came to Elena Lincoln. But tell me why you just did not file for a divorce once you made the decision to return to your previous lifestyle?

He runs his hand through his hair and gestures around the room with his other, shaking his head. It feels as though hours pass while I wait for Christian's reply. I swear that the room is so quiet that I can hear my watch ticking. Just fucking answer me, you son of a bitch. Cruelly rub the truth in my face and behave the way that you did at this meetings onset, sitting around the table with a cocky air about you, and mindlessly twirling a fucking pen. Why does Christian have the need to drag out admitting his shit to me? He knows we are done. I know that his continued silence, behavior that is so unlike Christian's personality, is nothing more than a ploy, another mind fuck. This is Christian's way of covering my eyes to reality so I will accept his blood money and run to the bank.

"Face reality, Christian, even when reality will probably be my agony." I snarl. "Not that you have a heart and will care."

"Anastasia…I am selfish and poisonous and cruel. I married you, and honest to God thought that I finally had a chance of being normal. My fucked up mind convinced me that it was your duty to rid me of my need to dominate and punish. Our first night at the penthouse, the first time that I had sex with a woman who wasn't tied up and who I didn't beat the shit out of, was a miracle in my eyes. Since you were that woman, I looked at you as my personal miracle, some kind of angel that I had found who was going to heal all of my fucked up shit. I placed the responsibility of my changing my entire life on your shoulders. I fucking know that I have never owned any of my fucked up shit. My urges for wanting a sub came back ... fuck they NEVER left! Son of a bitch, it is like that fucked up saying about a person going back to what feels like home! Those months that I did not give in to my desires was me white knuckling it. I fought it, although I still craved it, Anastasia." He says vehemently.

He shakes his head and exhales loudly.

"Then once I made up my mind, and my sick ass was in the middle of a hard core BDSM scene, all I saw was you and it enraged me. Seeing your face enraged me because I had told myself you had saved me, but there I was, back in the same fucked up place where I seemingly belong. I blamed you, Anastasia. You were supposed to save me, but failed me instead. FUCK!" He yells.

I have long since believed that Christian Grey must be depraved of insane. No one of sound mind or judgment would have done the things that he has. At first, I thought that maybe Christian was just a serial philanderer, but I quickly threw that stupid idea out the window. Which one is it? Depraved, or simply off his rocker and nuts? Perhaps Christian is addicted to this lifestyle in the same way a junkie is to the needle. I no longer have a desire to figure him out or to analyze his fucked-upness. All that I know is that listening to this man blame me for failing him, from preventing him from approaching Hillary Wilkins that night, disgusts me to my very core. Whomever or whatever warped this man's mind did one fucking good job of doing so.

"But the fucking reason I didn't divorce you was because I didn't want to. Once I was back to beating and fucking little women who looked like you… When I returned to dominating little brown-haired women like you…I began a mission to bring you to heel. I could not make you be what I needed, and what I really wanted from you. Then I found out the reason physical punishment was a hard limit for you, so I continued to carry on with what I really need! I disregarded that you were a person with feelings, and only thought about myself. I never left because I had come to look at you as my possession that I would eventually bring to heel in any manner that I could since you would not let me punish you physically. Each of those subs I contracted had to physically resemble you. Anastasia, for some fucked up reason, my sadistic mind changed direction. My previous obsession of my subs having to look like my birth mother was gone. Some dumb ass that did not know any better would think being relieved of that sickness would be a good thing. The shit was no longer oedipal, but still fucked. The obsession became all about you. I couldn't punish you like I wanted to, so I contracted women that I could. Those women were chosen even more carefully than the previous fifteen. These submissives had to look like you. I often came up with scenes where they had to behave like you."

Christian shoves his hands into his pockets and continues staring at me until he continues in a matter of fact tone.

"These women gave me the complete submission that you couldn't provide me. I knew you never would, and so I punished them and imagined it was you. I was aware that I could never hurt you physically, but was aware that I could do so in other ways, even if you did not know about them. In a sense, you did submit to me, and I did bring you to heel through my behavior and disregard for you. So to answer your question, I didn't divorce you because staying married to you while I also contracted subs was my way of punishing you for failing me. For failing to submit and to please me. Everything that I did was to punish you as I craved to so desperately.

My stomach is churning as each of his words sink in. All that I can do is stand there, wearing stupidly expensive Armani Collezioni clothes. Black wide leg trousers, classic shell top in gold and a Herringbone blazer. These pathetically expensive clothes do not protect me from the words that are leaking off Christian's tongue. I am flabbergasted looking at the man whom I stupidly believed loved me. Now, I discover that he had done nothing more than talk himself into believing that I was meant to save him. Fucking save him, like a person does when they go to an animal shelter and pick out a cat that is going to be euthanized the next day. That is all I have ever been. Now he just admitted that the only thing that he had ever wanted me for was to beat on and then fuck hard. Well, all we ever did was fuck hard. God knows he never made love to me once during all of our time together. Christian looked at me as though I was a life raft, he desperately grasped a hold of me to save his supposedly drowning ass, and when I FAILED this bastard, he methodically planned his daily take down of my body and spirit in order to bring me to heel. To heel? Isn't that what they train dogs to do? To come to heel? Christian looked at me as nothing more than a would be whipping post. That is why he restrained me that night and physically abused me with that paddle. He had no remorse while PLANNING to do it; he felt that he had the right to do it, along with believing that I mother fucking deserved it. My overwhelming desire to run at him and punch him in the head until his skull cracks is only controlled when I forcefully turn my ankles and dig my Valentino Emillie Sandal's into the carpet. Second thought - I could use the Valentino's stiletto heels to pierce his cranium and watch the blood ruin his fucking suit. Which one is that, anyway? An Eermengeildo Zegna?

While my thinking has gone haywire, and I insanely vacillate between thoughts of murdering Christian Grey and wondering what high-end suit he is wearing, I want to stick my fingers in his eyes and rip them out. Christian's eyes are so beautiful. He is such a waste of beauty, and I ask myself why God had to give such beauty to a soul as ugly as Christian Grey. I can ask God an almost similar question. Why did you make this man so physically beautiful at all? Was Christian created to be a beautiful angel that was all too quickly turned into a horrific devil? His beauty is blinding, misleading, and Satan's piece de resistance.

Once Christian has confessed his sickening truth, I gasp, throwing my hand to my mouth and stagger backwards. He has finally admitted it, and I know it is final, and much needed brutal honesty. Christian just told me the actual goddamn truth, and it is an agonizing blow to my gut, pushing the air out of my lungs. I have to reach out for the back of a chair to remain upright. Yes, I demanded the truth, and Christian has finally given it to me. Nevertheless, my still deluded mind did not think it would be something so horrible. I always knew I was not what Christian wanted. It was a constant thought in my head and became my bottomless insecurity. I was all too aware that I was inadequate. After finding out that my nagging insecurities were actually a gut instinct that I ignored, and that Christian was getting what he needed elsewhere, I assumed that I knew why. However, I wanted more than my own assumptions; I wanted the truth. I have now been given the truth, and it is horrendous, and vicious and far worse than I ever imagined. He is blaming ME for all of this. ME!

"No! Oh, hell fucking no! I know that you have finally told the goddamn truth, but it does not mean that you are getting away with being the devil. You played me; I give you that, but to blame me for returning to your sick lifestyle? You can take that delusional bullshit and shove it up your ass! You are one sick fucker and I am so happy that you are aware of it. Do you want to hear what I think about your warped excuse for blaming me for the fact that you are twisted and disgusting? I think fuck you! Fuck you for every devious kiss, empty dream, and for your sick enjoyment of lying next to a love-blinded fool each night! Fuck every fake photograph of the two of us, and for making me trust you, Christian! You mother fucker, you made me believe I was the end all and be all and I never was! It is the complete opposite of that because you actually hate me, which is fine, but for you to stand here and calmly blame me for your ...?" I scream. "You deserve my wrath and every cell of my pain! You also deserve for me to slice your throat ...No, no! You fucking deserve a long day with your whore mother's pimp and a pack of Camels! I would light each cigarette for him, and choose what body part he can use for his ashtray! Can you smell your flesh burning little Christian? Do you think little Christian will have a scary nightmare about his mommy and her decaying stench tonight? You are a waste of air and space Christian, and I wouldn't lose sleep if you committed suicide! Do the world a favor and blow your goddamn head off! Screw this, I do not give a fuck, and hopefully, I have made it clear that I hate your guts. Concentrate on me right now and tell me if you notice something? Look at me and tell me what you see, Christian. I am still mother fucking standing, am I not? You did your best to break me and YOU failed. Not only am I still standing, you haven't even made my knee's buckle. You did your best to crush me and you failed miserably. You are nothing more than deleted pictures on my cell phone, Christian. I think of you as some delusion, a figment of my imagination. That is why you do not see me weeping right now, and you probably wish I were since you enjoy inflicting pain! The only solid truth between the joke of Christian and Ana Grey is that we never said good-bye, we just fucking ended, and fuck you because I am worth more than that!"

Christian has not moved a muscle. He is simply staring without a single emotion upon his face.

"Anastasia, you will never believe this, but I do know what a sick fucker I am and I am sor..."

I walk to the door to call back in our lawyers, and I am sure that Luke, Tom, and fucking Taylor can hear me. They are each standing outside the door like hulking and gun-toting idiots, and probably consider entering the room Christian and I are in when I turn around and respond to the serpent before me in a soul-piercing scream.

"Christian, I don't fucking want you to be sorry or offer up some overblown and useless apology! Do not stutter out the useless word sorry. I fucking want you to feel like I did. I want you to have your chest cracked open, to have your goddamn skin peeled off, and to not be able to sleep, and crying at your desk at work! I want your black heart to bleed when you hear my name, and your legs to shake if you ever hear that goddamn Etta James song we danced to at our wedding! I pray you go blind with agony if you ever run across a photograph of us! Just like I did! I know that will never happen, but I sure as fuck do not yearn for your pathetic apology. Fucking sorry is not an emotion that tore me in half! I fucking felt pure hell and that is what I want for you, I want fucking hell."

My throat is raw and dry as I stand before the man I married. He has remained silent and calm, wearing a look I do not even care to analyze. We simply stare at one another, as two startled ex-lovers who run into each other walking down the street who do not know what to say. Christian finally recovers himself enough to speak.

"I welcome my judgment, Anastasia."

I narrow my eyes at him. Christian has no idea that he will soon come to regret saying those words.

"Go get our lawyers." I snap.

Christian turns toward the door, only to stop, and rapidly turns on his heels and stares at me. I am looking at Christian Grey, the cold-hearted CEO. Christian Grey, the Dominant.

It appears that he has just remembered the photographs.

"How did you get those photographs, Anastasia? How did you gain access to the…list?" His voice is hard now, and he has narrowed his eyes at me.

Crossing my arms, I defiantly raise my chin and smirk at him.

"Like you once said to me when I questioned you about Elena Lincoln, that is none of your concern." I hiss.

Christian takes a step closer to where I am standing. Since he is so much taller than I am, I have to look up at him.

"Answer me. Olivia couldn't have given it to you, only…"

"You were going to say Andrea, weren't you? She had that little list of yours, along with those few employees you pay well enough to keep your secrets. Do you employ anyone with morals?"

"Tell me." Christian demands, rubbing his chin.

He is in deep thought and contemplating how I gained accessed to the penthouse. If I do not throw him off his current train of thought it is going to go straight to Luke. I do have a valid reason to change the subject. I wanted to privately hand a shocking truth to Christian.

"Fuck you ... And speaking of Mrs. Lincoln, there is something you should have," I reply. "What I am about to give you is something I always planned to do privately. A tiny part of me knew I had to do it this way because I wanted to protect you. That is fucked up, is it not? After what you did to me, here I am protecting you. But ninety-nine percent of the reason I am handing these over to you privately is for your family. I did what I had to do in order to spare them the humiliation of the photographic evidence of your molestation by that sick bitch."

Removing the revolting pictures that Elena had of Christian when she was finally exposed was never to save Christian's ass. I did it for his family, and to protect them from the public ridicule that would have left a black cloud over their good name. I am only giving the photographs to him now so he will know who took her down, along with who temporarily sullied his image, along with the image of his beloved GEH.

Walking to where Allison was sitting at the conference table, I bend down to what Kate calls the box of doom and retrieve the envelope containing the pictures. I hold the envelope out for him to take, and he rips it from my hand. Once his eyes rest on them, surely he will see how Elena atrociously abused him, as she did so many others, under the guise of helping them.

I have never seen Christian Grey visibly pale, or watched his mouth drop open and gape at anything as long as I have known him. He sucks in a gulp of air, and his eyes fly to my face. He is a breath away from losing his shit.

"How…" He breathes, astonished. 

"I had them removed from her basement dungeon. That place was bone chillingly evil, a fucking torture chamber. At least your so called playroom was less terrifying." I answer. "It is such a romantic shade of red."

"When did you do this? How did you pull this off?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Like I said, that is none of your concern, Christian. Just thank me for removing them before the police raided her home. They are quite shocking aren't they? I can tell from your reaction you had no idea she took those pictures of you. Does knowing that Elena did more than supposedly save you from a life in prison or an early grave make you wonder why she kept them all these years? It appears the pedophile held on to them in case she needed to use them against you for some reason. Elena was such a wonderful friend to you, was she not?"

Observing me intently, a lightbulb must go off in Christian's mind. I note the pictures and envelope are now balled up in his fist.

"It was you, wasn't it, Anastasia? You tipped off the police and are the reason Elena is in prison. I have to admit that I am floored you were capable of that. Tell me how you pulled it off."

"No I didn't. That young man, one of her many victims, went to the police. You know that. I have no doubt you and your team of evil doers dug into that young man's life with a microscope. Elena fucked him up the same way she fucked you up. The only difference between the two of you is that he realizes it, and he's getting help to overcome it."

"I don't believe you." He says, scowling at me.

"I don't give a fuck if you don't believe me. The accusations he went to the police with are a matter of public record."

Christian's attempt to stare me down and scare me is failing miserably. Smiling, I shrug my shoulders.

"Try again, Anastasia. I am damn good at reading people, and I will admit you are holding your own right now, but I still do not believe you. I really could not give a fuck about Elena being in prison, but I am very curious to know how she ended up there."

"Christian, like I have already told you, it is a matter of public record who went to the police and finally got the justice they were due. That sick woman walked around free much too long anyway. Shit, Christian, why are you accusing me of doing this? It is not as though I am the only person who found out the truth about Elena and your …. history together." I reply

His gray eyes have dulled, and I imagine that he has closely listened to what I have just said and is going through the Rolodex in his brain. He is flipping through it, and he has to have landed on my last sentence.

"_**It is not as though I am the only person who found out the truth about Elena and your history together."**_

I watch as it dawns on Christian. It actually looks like fireworks light up his eyes once it hits him. If looks could kill…

"The party at my parents house …. That's what you are hinting at, is it not? You, Katherine, Sawyer, my fath … " He suddenly stops.

"Your father? Are you wondering how much of your conversation with that vile woman was on Kate's phone? Are you wondering if every sick detail was recorded and Carrick watched it? I have been curious if that thought has crossed your mind since that night. I saw how despondent you were once Carrick arrived at our clusterfuck, although you never brought it up again. I suppose that was just another incident that you stuck your head in the sand over."

"Are you telling me that you were all involved, Anastasia?" He asks, grinding his teeth together and takes a step toward me.

Sighing with exasperation, I shake my head.

"No, I am not, Christian. I am not telling you anything, except you should be thanking me for not being so bitter that I would expose you. Imagine what would happen if your disgusting relationship with a pedophile became public knowledge. What would the business world think of Christian Grey if they saw the picture of you taking an eight inch dildo up your ass?" I reply nonchalantly. "Especially since the omnipotent Christian Grey was about sixteen-years-old in that picture and his much older Dominatrix was a close friend of his mother. The world would also know that you not only remained friends with your molester, you also propped up her business for close to a decade, and only quit once she was convicted of being a pedophile."

Christian's face now looks as I expected, flaming red from his burning anger and contorted with his need to punish. I am no longer afraid of this sick fuck. I simply smile at him sweetly. It would only take me yelling for help before Luke and Tom rushed the room and broke Christian in half.

"Goddamn you, Anastasia! How fucking dare you…" He whispers furiously.

"Hey…don't be pissed at me. You are the one who took each inch like you had a fucking pussy," I laugh bitterly. "You better never forget that I love your family so much that I gave those pictures to you privately. I have done many things since April, Christian. Some of those things have been atrocious, although fucking well deserved. But your family deserved my respect, and I gave it to them."

Christian's nostrils are flaring, and his fists are clenched so hard that his knuckles are white. He opens his mouth to say something, but then shuts it, only to open it again and looks at me suspiciously.

"What do you mean that you have done a lot of things? What types of atrocious things has little Anastasia Steele done?" He sneers.

I ignore his question.

"Which one of us is going to bring our lawyers back in? This one-on-one time with you has got my skin crawling and it is most likely from something you probably caught from Miss Sams."

Of course, Christian realizes I am aware of his dirty little list and know each of his subs names, but he still appears caught off guard when I say Miss Sams' name. He pushes his reaction down and heads to the door, obviously he decided to be the one to call in our legal teams.

"Christian … never underestimate the repercussions of hurting someone. They are like cancer; slow, inevitably painful and often not curable." I murmur, just as the door opens.

He looks back at me, wearing his impassive, yet amused expression, and opens the door.

"One more thing, Christian." He looks back at me, and I nod my head at the now crumpled photographs. "I do have copies."

Christian's amused expression disappears, although once the door is wide open and Luke, Tom, and Taylor are all staring at him, he does not respond and walks through the door.

While the door begins to shut, I see Luke standing there with his arms crossed, glaring at me with unbridled anger. He does not blink when I mouth, "I had too." The door clicks once it is closed, and I take a seat at the table, while my mind wanders back to this mornings encounter with our families.

_Walking to the conference room where I would soon see Christian, I passed by another empty room, one that was elegantly decorated, and glanced inside as I walked by. My dad and Angela were sitting on a plush love seat, her face worried, and Ray's was hard and angry. Carrick's back was to the door, and he was looking out a window, the light of the morning sun shining on his graying hair. He was wearing a black suit and both of his hands were in his pants pocket. My gloriously beautiful best friend was sitting on the large sofa, in between Grace and Mia, who had gone against Christian's wishes not attend this meeting. The biggest shock, and what admittedly broke my heart, was spotting Elliot. He was sitting slumped over and was resting his elbows on his knees. The sight of him brought tears to my eyes, and I stopped in my tracks. They saw me standing in the doorway and I was soon passed from the arms of one to another. Elliot had immediately stood up, although he did not rush me as everyone else had. Once I had heard my fill of apologies and wiped away a gallon of tears, I made my way to Elliot. He looked so fucking sad, and seeing his pain made my heart palpitate. Elliot pulled me into his arms and held me tightly. _

"_Elliot, do not dare tell me that you are sorry." I whispered in his ear._

_He pulled away from me, but only by mere inches and looked me in the eyes._

"_I won't, Ana. But I do want to say something to you, and I hope you will listen to me because I have got to get it off my fucking chest." He choked on his words. "I don't know another woman whose heart is as genuine as yours, Ana. I have no idea where your heart or head is at right now, but listen to me, please. Don't ever doubt your worth because you are one in a trillion, and please don't become insecure or allow your heart to turn into a fucking rock over my brother. I love Christian so fucking much and I know that you did too. I don't know whether Christian will ever forgive me for what I did to him that night, but I pray that he will. I have already told you that as much as I hate myself for hurting my brother, I would do it again, but it would only be for you. I remember sending you upstairs at The Mile High Club that night to use that private ladies room, and I fucking know if I hadn't, you wouldn't be going through this shit. Ana. I am so sorry for doing that, although how can I regret it since it brought you into our family? I can't regret it, and I won't ever regret it."_

"_Elliot, please stop…I just cannot listen to this." _

"_Please, please, listen to me. I know that you have lost hope since finding out what my bro was up to. I see that your hope is gone, and I have to tell you that it is okay to feel that way for a while. What is not going to be okay with me is not seeing you putting any effort in getting your hope back. That will not fly with me, and I refuse to let it happen. You are breathing every day and have somehow made it through all this time struggling in silence. I can see it in your eyes that you do not believe this shit is going to get better, although that is not the case. Ana, you have already gotten better. You are genuine, sweet, and full of love, but you are also strong. You are so very strong and everyone in this family believes in you and always will. It is going to be tough for a while, maybe even a long time, but you have already learned how to cope with this, and as time passes, you will not be simply coping. You will be better. Fuck! I don't mean better! I mean you are going to be perfectly healed and happy. I goddamn love my brother more than anything, but I also want you over him. I love you, Ana, and I love Christian, and you know that I want you both happy. Now I have no idea what is going to happen during this meeting, hell, I may disagree with what you have chosen to do and be mad as hell at you for awhile. Nevertheless, I will get over it and never hold it against you. None of us will. We all love you, Ana. I fucking love you for trying to help me and Christian to try to patch up what I fucking did. No regular or run of the mill woman would be that compassionate or loving…"_


	26. Chapter 26

All right to the characters of FSoG belong E. L. James

_**Thursday, September 24**__**th**__**, 2015**_

_Vancouver, Washington_

_Ana's POV_

_**Revelations**_

"Well, I do believe we have reached an impasse, gentlemen," Bee says, as I doodle on a legal pad. "The only thing our clients agree on is that neither wants the primary residence."

Bee and Allison look at the two suits across the table. I do not even bother. I am too busy drawing the face of a man with devil horns on top of his head. The suits are speaking to Christian in hushed tones. We cannot hear what they are saying, although Christian eventually shakes his head no. To be honest, the three of us could not care less what those idiots are whispering about.

"Gentlemen, how does your client want to proceed?" Allison finally speaks up. "We can continue negotiating until we reach an agreement, or allow the court to make a decision. We all know that will get messy since Mr. Grey and Ana do not have a prenuptial agreement. I am quite confident your client would prefer to avoid that at all costs."

"Ms. Kendall, we are confident that we can find a common ground. Our client wants to handle this privately and has no doubt that we can. I am confident that Mrs. Grey feels the same way." The old geezer Kirkland says.

I snort at being referred to as Mrs. Grey.

"Please refrain from calling me Mrs. Grey. For future reference, address me as Ana, please."

The two suits look at me as if I have two heads. They must be thinking that every woman in Washington State would die to be Mrs. Christian Grey. They have no idea that a woman must be willing to be handcuffed and caned to earn the title Mrs. Christian Grey. The serpent chuckles softly to himself, and my only wish is that I was close enough to stab him in the neck with my pen. My only consolation is the knowledge that Christian Grey will not be chuckling for very much longer.

Christian looks annoyed as hell. So far, he has sat quietly and glanced at his watch every other minute. I have caught him staring at me several times, although he averts his eyes when I pin them down with my own. I am guessing that he is going crazy since I refused to give him any answers over Elena Lincoln's arrest or getting those pictures from his red room of pain. He suddenly snatches Faulk's legal pad and scrawls what is surely another large amount of money to send me on my merry way.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Christian snaps, tossing the legal pad back to his attorney.

Faulk looks at him quizzically for a fraction of a second until the Grey glower scares the old man, who looks away and clears his throat.

"Our client now offers a flat sum of five billion dollars and monthly spousal support of one-hundred thousand dollars a month. The alimony would cease in the event that your client were too remarry." He says confidently.

A giggle nearly escapes my throat when I hear Faulk say spousal support. When was I ever that fuck's spouse? Allison kicks me under the table. Bee reaches around Allison's head, who is already whispering in my ear.

"Are you sure about this Ana?" Bee whispers the same question Allison just did. I throw her a look that asks her if she is crazy.

With our heads huddled together, and whispering to one another, I can see Christian in my peripheral vision. Sitting there like the cocky bastard he is with a smug look on his face, and looking quite confident that I will accept this pay off. Even I know that most women would jump on top of it and run straight to the bank. We face the suits at the same time, but then I blatantly stare into Christian's eyes, smirking at him. I think he believes my expression is an omen. He does not look happy whatsoever.

"Does your client need a moment to consider Mr. Grey's offer?" Faulk asks, sounding quite irritated that we have already spent a few hours going back and forth with the same bullshit.

"No, I don't need to consider anything. I find that to be unacceptable, Mr. Faulk. I reject it wholeheartedly." I reply, surprising each of the men by answering for myself, my eyes still on Christian, watching him turning this situation over in his mind.

"Mrs… Ana, perhaps you should take a few minutes to reconsider," Faulk says. "No one wants to…"

"I do believe our client just made her wishes known," Bee says, interrupting him as she opens a very large file. "I do have a question, however. I believe the documentation you provided shows Mr. Grey's liquid net worth as thirty-six point six billion dollars. Is that correct, Mr. Faulk? And that amount excludes all companies and properties, as well?"

Bee's statement grabs Christian's full attention. My eyes have never left his face. The cookie cutter blank expression remains, although he is gazing at Bee through subtly squinted eyes. Come on, Grey. Be like Pooh and think, think, think.

Suddenly, my face begins to feel the heat of the glare Christian is burning me with. I am all too familiar with Christian's astute mind…He knows that I am up to something, and it is probably driving him crazy that he doesn't know what. I can hear his thoughts, "She won't accept any settlement I have offered her and she knows..."

"Yes, Mrs. Darlington, that amount is correct."

"Hmmm…." Bee purses her lips together. "Ana?"

Allison takes her cue and retrieves the proverbial box of doom from the floor, takes the top off, and places it on the table, completely throwing Kirkland and Faulk off guard, as exhibited by their faces. Christian's eyes settle on the box that he saw me take Elena's pictures out of. Turning my head, I look his way and lick my lips. If he is apprehensive over the unknown contents in the box, Christian's face is indiscernible.

"Gentlemen and Mr. Grey, I will not be accepting any settlement offers," I say acidly. "But I will state my demands."

Christian has closed his eyes from what most likely is fury. He turns his entire body in my direction, violently scowls at me, and slams his fists on the table.

"I fucking knew it! Goddamn, Anastasia, just fucking spit out how much you fucking want?" He growls. "I knew you were going to try to take me for whatever you could get. Five billion isn't enough for you? How does seven billion sound to you? I SAID A BILLION, ANASTASIA!"

Christian is out of his mind furious. He has stood up, placed both arms on the table, and is looking at me as if he could kill me. I am sure he would not hesitate if we were alone in the room.

I resolutely hold his glare and shake my head.

"Christian, I heard exactly what you said. Sit back down and I will continue." I reply calmly.

He remains standing. I throw him a feign smile that only grows wider as I watch his fury rise.

"Christian, the first thing that you're going to give me is the four now vacant buildings that were previously Elena Lincoln's salons. You know, the salons you funded for Elena Lincoln, and had to close when she went to prison because she is a convicted pedophile," I say softly. "I know how humiliated you were when it became public knowledge that you had been propping up the business of a known child molester."

Christian is doing his trademark running a hand through his copper hair, and I can tell he is moments from erupting over that last dig I threw in. He somehow manages to plug up that volcano temper of his and looks at me suspiciously.

"Why the fuck do you want four empty buildings, Anastasia? You are turning down billions of dollars for empty buildings? What the fuck?" He yells, looking bemused.

"I am going to use them for a good cause. Of course, before any renovations begin, I will have to have them exorcised of you, along with the pedophile, of course."

"Mr. Grey, you should…" Faulk begins.

Naturally, if Christian's lawyers believe all I want is four fucking building's then they want their client to sit down and shut up. They are like the three blind mice.

"You can shut your fucking mouth," Christian hisses at him. "What kind of good goddamn cause? What the fuck are you playing at?

"I am not playing at anything. Like I just said, along with another property I have acquired downtown, I am going to use those four vacant buildings for a good cause."

My vague implication dangerously slips unnoticed in the air. Christian's unadulterated wrath is about to violently fulminate. Faulk and Kirkland have no doubt witnessed their volatile boss in action before, although Faulk's eyebrows are furrowed, and he shifts slightly in his chair, while looking between Christian and me. Beside him, Kirkland is scribbling away on a pile of papers. For some crazy reason, I wonder why I have not noticed his pen is red and think how fitting that is, seeing that I am out for blood. I decide that I have ADD and that is why my mind wonders so easily.

"Why won't you answer the stupid question, Anastasia…?" Christian starts, although it sounds more as if he is growling through gritted teeth.

I swipe my hand at him dismissively, narrowing my eyes, but smile at him sarcastically.

"Shut it, Christian. And for the millionth time in three plus years, stop calling me Anastasia."

"Anastasia, I have no idea why you have lost control of your senses and seem to be incoherent, but this meeting isn't about your anger toward me. We are here to settle…"

"Shut the hell up. And yes, I did interrupt you again, and I did not do it because I know your canes and belts are safely ensconced at Escala." I tell him softly, standing up.

Shock initially hits Christian once my softly spoken words register with him. Suddenly, he furiously starts to make his way around the table, looking like a bomb ready to detonate in my face.

"Shut the fuck up, Anastasia! Shut your mother fucking mouth!" He roars at me. His body is shaking with fury while he points his index finger at me. His insanity does not even make me flinch.

Kirkland grabs hold of Christian's arm to stop him, and Bee rises to her feet and walks within inches of where Christian is standing.

"Mr. Grey, I will respectively ask you to take your seat once. If you force my hand again, I will have my security forcibly remove you from the premises. Let the idea of that sink in, along with the fact that there is a throng of media and paparazzi surrounding the building." She says in a hard tone. "A picture such as that would bring some pap a lot of cash, don't you think?"

Glaring at her, Christian stares her down until he realizes the implications of her threat. With immense delight, I watch him tuck his tail between his legs and sit back down. If he were to get his hands on me, I would be six feet under. Those gray eyes that I once thought were beautiful are throwing daggers at me. Those gray eyes now disgust me. His entire existence disgusts me, and I hate myself for never seeing how disgusting and ugly this man really is. Why could I have not woken up each morning with the bitter taste of Christian Grey in my mouth? Surely, it would have served as a warning to my stupid ass that something was terribly wrong. Instead, I turned into a dumb ass, blinded by love and those hard fucks I had grown to enjoy. Just as I had told Christian earlier, I hate myself more than I hate him, although his psycho ass used and abused me for years while I was stupidly skipping down a fucking lollipop lane.

I take out three folders, and Allison removes the necessary paper from her briefcase and places it in front of her. Allison, like me, stares at Christian with open disdain. I think about the contents within each folder and wonder if these two old men even know what BDSM is. If not, they soon will. I stand and walk around the table to where the three men are sitting. I feel like a school teacher as I give the three assholes a folder. Christian's eyes follow me, although now they appear a bit uneasy. I return his glare with a sarcastic and fake smile, and long before I return to my seat, a loud growl erupts from Christian, and we all watch as he flings his folder across the room, its contents flying everywhere.

"You mother fucking bitch!" He screams, as he begins to lunge over the table, now being physically restrained by his two much older and weaker attorneys.

Bee and Allison jump to their feet to shield me, although I know their protection would not be worth a flying fuck. Christian's temporary loss of sanity does not frighten me though. I lived with that jerk off long enough to witness him act bat shit crazy more times than I can remember. In addition, if Christian did hit me, well…

However, as I see Christian, the maniac man, being restrained Kirkland and Faulk, I decide I probably should not be so sure that he would not hurt me, especially after what he just saw. Therefore, out of a now ingrained instinct, I yell out for the one person who I trust my life with.

"LUKE!" I scream loud enough that I nearly pierce my own eardrums. I imagine that our family, who are down the hall in another conference room, heard me.

I think Luke and Tom barge through the door the very second the letter 'L' leaves my throat. Quickly on their tails is the venomous cobra, Jason Taylor. Each man quickly assesses the volatile situation. I can hear Luke thinking I should have agreed to allow him to be in the room with me. Tom steps in front of Allison and Bee, while Luke immediately makes his way to me and firmly plants himself in front of me, standing so closely that his back is touching my chest. The fucking cobra takes hold of his psychotic boss, murmuring something in Christian's ear that makes him sit down.

"Mr. Grey, I already asked you to remain seated. I would have you thrown out of my law firm since you are obviously unable to behave in a civilized manner." Bee harshly barks at Christian. "Ana, do you want him thrown out, or do you prefer these two gentlemen remain in the room to protect you?"

"Protect her?" Christian retorts loudly. "Do you think my wife needs to be protected from me, Mrs. Darlington?"

Taylor squeezes Christian's shoulder, probably as a sign to shut the hell up. Bee steps completely away from Tom to look Christian directly in the face. This is like David and Goliath, only these two gorgeous people are dressed to the nines, and Bee does not have a sling shot. However, she does have a mouth.

"I most certainly think that, Mr. Grey. You have not done nothing but to attempt to intimidate my client and have more than proven that you cannot control yourself. We have all witnessed you physically lunge at Ana, and you have proven that my client was right when she described you and your behavior. I have been around the block many times with the type of man you appear to be, Mr. Grey. I would go so far as to describe you as an abusive husband. The only thing keeping me from removing you from my respectable business is that I know Ana's personal security is more than capable of protecting her from you." Bee's voice is low, but the menacing tone behind it powerful.

Tom goes and stands by the door, his arms behind his back, and Taylor has slithered to stand closely beside his boss. It takes me touching Luke's arm before he lets me around him, although he remains closely by my side. During all of Christian's insanity, no one has paid attention to the suits. Both men had sat back down when the three hulking men stormed the room, and obviously started perusing the contents of the folders I gave them. The folders contain copies of the excruciatingly descriptive twenty contracts that Christian made with his well-paid whores, along with his lovely collection of each whores photographs. To say they appear horrified would be the understatement of the century.

I catch Taylor glancing at the contracts and pictures from the folder that Christian slung across the room, which now litter the floor. He looks directly at Luke.

"Hi, Jason. How is Gail?" I ask, while he remains expressionless and stoic. Jason does have the decency to look at me while I am speaking to him. "Gail came to visit me a while back. I believe it was soon after she told you to fuck off and left your deceitful ass. She told me she wasn't too keen on Haley Sams, Christian's curre…Well, Christian's submissive. Gail also told me she was quite disgusted that you had been aiding and abetting Mr. Grey with the four subs that came before Miss Sams. Tell me, you son of a bitch, did you help him fuck me over for your over-the-top-pay, or because you are an amoral bastard? Whichever one it is, you sure have paid one fuck of a price for it, haven't you? We can all see that price must have not mattered much to you since you are over there holding back the Marquis de Sade. Please don't stand there like an emotionless robot, Jason Taylor, surely you do have a heart that was broken when your wife found out that…"

"Anastasia, stop this. It is ob…" Christian says loudly. He has his head thrown back and his eyes are closed. I am genuinely surprised he is not doing his fucking idiotic hand through his hair bullshit. If this has him freaking out, then I look forward to seeing Christian completely losing it as this little meeting continues its downward spiral.

_._

"No. No, I will not stop this. I am far, far away from stopping. Back to you Taylor, did you ever lie awake at night with your wife by your side, feeling guilty that you were choosing your sicko of a boss over her? Did you ever feel a drop of guilt knowing that I cared about you, that I looked at you as someone I could trust my life with? I know that there is no way that you did though. What I want you to know, however, is that your choices have hurt an entire family, not only Christian's, but yours as well. Has Sophie asked where Gail is? What have you told your daughter when she does ask?"

There is something building inside of me, and I imagine it could be the same feeling that Christian has when he goes ballistic. I know that I am hissing the brutal truth at Jason Taylor, goading him to show any kind of reaction. I am standing here finding joy with every bullet I fire at Jason, knowing his impassive expression betrays what he must be feeling. He adored his wife. Jason had loved Gail for years. Nevertheless, he chose lies and deceit over her, and for Gail's benefit, I imagine those bullets hit him square in the heart. Although, what I admit to next will simply hurt his pride and prove him incompetent. Jason is like a dick that cannot get it up. My ecstatic pleasure knowing that Taylor and Christian's goon squad were running around trying to uncover who gained access to the penthouse, along with fucking up Christian's submissive condo, is about to reach a higher level.

Taylor has remained as a stone while I verbally eviscerated him, and I do not find that surprising. What I do find surprising is the dead silence that suddenly surrounds us. Christian's two lawyers have closed their folders and have pushed them away. Their upper crust, holier than thou attitudes, appear horrifically disgusted by what they have read and seen. What a shock it must be to see their boss in a different and disturbing light.

"I take everyone's silence to mean that you do not mind if I continue. Only now, I am not throwing out my opinions of you two mother fuckers," I hiss, gesturing to Christian and Taylor. "Jason, I noticed that look in your eyes once you saw Christian's contracts and his so-called insurance pictures. I am confident with what you are thinking; you think that I took them. So I will put you and your boss out of your misery and bumbling detective work and admit it."

Before I can finish, Christian lifts his head up and looks at me bemused.

Pleased by his expression, I genuinely smile at him before continuing. I am still quite proud of Luke and his flawless talent at getting me in and out of the penthouse that morning.

"Christian, it was me who took your rent-a- whore papers and busted into your safe and took your photographs. Little ole' Ana is the one who got into the penthouse undetected and has had you all behaving like The Three Stooges. Taylor, I already told your boss about the day this past April when I found everything out. When I say everything, I mean finding out about Christian contracting subs our entire joke of a marriage, and how you helped him get away with it. You missed the story about how I stumbled upon it one day, April the third to be exact, when I unexpectedly showed up at Escala. It was the next day that I was in Christian's study. The day I started making fools out of each of you," I say. "Christian, I got into the penthouse and have had all of that shit since the day after I found out what I was really married to."

Christian is staring at me incredulously, and only opens his mouth once and then shuts it. It is then that his eyes move from my face and up to Luke's. Of course, it was obvious from Taylor's previous reaction that he was all too aware of who got into the penthouse and why he has no visible reaction to my admission. Christian's eyes glaze over in anger as the truth hits him. All of these months, his security team's number two man has been fucking him royally, and right under his nose. I turn my head toward Luke and look up at his face. His eyes are burning with utter hate, and his body language is not denying he would, and could, rip Christian to shreds.

"You did it, didn't you, Sawyer?" Christian asks menacingly, and then ferociously glares at Taylor.

"Why didn't we ever consider it might have been Sawyer behind wiping out that entire hour of CCTV recordings?" Christian screams. "Taylor, you fucking know what Sawyer is capable of! You know who trained him! That is the goddamn reason he was your number two! How in the fuck did your mother fucking fuck up's get this so wrong?"

Trained Luke? Who trained Luke? What in the hell does that mean?

Before Taylor can even open his mouth, Christian is once again rising from his seat; however, his action is quickly put to a halt.

"Mr. Grey, I strongly advise you to remain seated as my colleague has requested of you." Mr. Faulk says with a sharp voice. Clearly, what he thought would be a cut and dry meeting to hammer out a divorce settlement has turned into something very dark that he wants no part of.

"I believe that I never considered Sawyer being involved due to his years of loyalty, Sir." Taylor finally replies to Christian, staring malevolently at Luke. Luke, on the other hand, looks as if he is proud these two have finally had the truth slapped in their faces.

"What a load of bullshit his so-called loyalty meant. Sawyer, you fucking asshole, I will make sure you never get a fucking job at Pizza Hut! What drove you to do this? Have you been fucking her all along?" Christian practically growls and points at me.

I swear that I see Luke turn into the Incredible Hulk before my eyes while he steps closer to his former employer.

"My friendship and loyalty to the woman I have protected for over three years drove me to act on her behalf, along with finding out what a sick and twisted bastard you are," Luke's voice is low and matter-of-fact. "And if you ever insult, or as much as utter a less than kind word about this woman, I will not hesitate to make you sorely regret it…Christian." Luke sneers, knowing how his ex-boss hates if anyone other than family calls him Christian.

Christian closes his eyes slowly, clenching his jaws so tightly they must be about to break before he opens them, and glares at Luke and I. He eyes me up and down as if I disgust him and scoffs at me. It puzzles me that Christian searches for whores that look like me if I abhor him so much.

"If you are fucking her, Sawyer, let me remind you of something. I was there first and you are getting my more than sloppy seconds. I understand why being around her would get your cock hard and wanting to get it wet. There is no denying she is a beautiful woman with a hot body that I have seen every inch of. It's just a shame that she can't please a man." Christian snarls threw gritted teeth.

Uh oh. Didn't Luke just warn him that it would be a bad idea to insult me again?

I swallow hard and go to grab Luke's arm before he can move. Obviously, Luke Sawyer has the speed of a Cheetah, and I am half a second too slow to attempt to stop him.

Before any of us can even process what is happening, Luke has made his way all of the way around the table, and when Taylor steps between him and Christian, Luke's right hand grabs Taylor by the throat. Within seconds of Luke's silent assault on his former friend, Tom has Luke's arm in a vice like grip, and I hear him murmuring, "The piece of shit isn't worth it, man."

Allison and Bee managed to remain seated and seemingly unaffected. I suppose educating them on the ways of the testosterone fueled and over protective hulks was a good idea. Christian's lawyers are positively puke green with disgust and must be wondering if they are in the Wild West.

Both of my hands are covering my mouth, although I have not been able to make my body move an inch. I hold my breath as we all wait for Luke to relinquish his hold on Jason Taylor's throat, and for Taylor to remove his hands from Luke's arm. It is only when I see him let Taylor go that I exhale the breath I had been holding and my body relaxes. The two men remain chest to chest and staring each other down, with Tom standing slightly behind Luke's right shoulder. I cannot help but wonder what it would be like if both men jumped Taylor. I immediately push that thought from my head when I remember they are all packing.

Luke turns his attention on Christian, who is shaking from fury and looks like a stick of dynamite that someone has lit, and we are seconds from feeling the explosion. Luke places his arms on the table and gets into Christian's face.

"I warned you to not speak an unkind word about Ana, and you did not heed that warning. I am going to be kind to you and let you off the hook for that this time. But let me tell you something, Grey. Everyone knows what a badass you think you are because you pay big bucks to roll around on a mat with some Olympic wannabe. Guess what? You are far from a badass, and you can become extremely angry and act like a violent maniac all day, but at the end of the day, you could be broken into half. I am sure Tom over there could do it with one arm behind his back. You are a joke. We already knew what a pathetic waste of breath you are already, but to speak about Ana in such a degrading way is further proof of the fact. I can only thank God that Grace Trevelyan-Grey isn't in this room to see her son's true colors," Luke says quietly. "You want to insult the woman you practically broke in half in a room full of people, Grey? Does that make you feel like a big boy? Well, let me say a few things about that woman over there. I have spent more time with her than you ever cared to. You want to be disgusting and say that you have seen this woman without her clothes on in front of your lawyers? Does that get you off, Grey? Let me ask you this, Grey. Does seeing a woman without her clothes on mean you have really seen her naked? In my opinion, naked means that you have been allowed to find out unadulterated truths about a person. Tell me about one of Ana's dreams. Tell me what breaks her heart. What is she passionate about and what makes her cry? Tell me about her childhood. Better yet, you mother fucker, tell me one story about her that your sorry ass is not in. Yeah, maybe you have seen the skin that covers Ana, and her body that you abused for years. But you know as much about her as all of those expensive books in your fancy library that you own but have never bothered to fucking open. Want to know something, Grey? All of those things I told you to fill me in about are facts that I can answer without thinking twice. In addition, they are not things that I have learned since last April. They are facts about that amazing woman that I began to learn the minute I was hired to protect her."

Oh my.

Luke stops speaking, but never removes his eyes from his former boss. Shaking his head in disgust, he gestures to Tom who is behind him. I am stunned and overwhelmed from what I have just heard him say.

"Keep the words that I was hired to protect her in your mind, Grey. Then take a cold and hard look at that man behind me. Protecting the woman you treated like garbage for years is not just a job to him either. He is as protective of Ana as I am and she knows that. Ana will never have to wonder if we are pieces of shit like this bastard whose been covering your ass since you were twenty-two. Ana's surrounded by a shit load of people who care about her safety, and that is more than just her physical safety. If you, or any of Taylor's so-called expert security team, so much as blink in Ana's direction, I will not need Tom or anyone else to break your neck, Grey. I will snap it like a twig with a smile on my face. Don't forget what I'm telling you and we won't have a problem."

Christian's furious eyes never left Luke's face, and I wonder if Christian is considering taking Luke's Glock and shooting him with it. On second thought, the pussy does not know how to shoot a gun. I clearly see that Luke rattled Christian. Somehow, he manages not reacting to Luke, who follows Tom as they both come and stand on either side of me. I wonder why Taylor didn't intervene. I inwardly roll my eyes and think that this must be how Obama feels about the Secret Service.

I raise my eyes to look up at Luke, but he is not paying me any attention. I am oddly disappointed.

Again, the room is deadly silent. Glancing back at Christian, I catch Taylor's eyes and see a glimpse of some unexpressed feeling in them. Not giving a fuck, I look back at his pathetic boss. Christian's elbows are resting on the table and his hands are steepled in front of his mouth. This day has not been very productive for him at all. What I can see is that he now looks disconcerted and angry. He looks very, very angry.

Christian's brows are furrowed as he stares at nothing in particular. He is studiously attempting to figure something out, and for a second or two, I am not sure what it is. Then the obvious hits me. Christian is attempting to figure out when he lost feeling as though he was the one in control of this situation. He realizes that it has turned on him and gone horribly wrong. Christian has no compass when it comes to understanding such a situation, or which direction he should walk toward to find that missing control.

Oh, my God. I love it.

His precious control has been covered with grease and is sliding away from him. He must be feeling crazed. Crazed and stripped of control is where I want him. I want him to teeter precariously on the edge of reason, I want to watch one of his feet slip, and demonically laugh once he lands on a hill of sharpened rocks. I want Christian's body to splinter into as many pieces as my heart did, and then I want to drag whatever pieces remain. Being in the same room with him, breathing the same air, and listening while he blamed me for these last disgusting three years, has unleashed my hatred that I had been pushing away. Remembering each time I cried, knowing deep inside of my soul that I was not what Christian wanted nor needed, has driven me to a place of strength, a place very much Christian Grey-like. If soul-shaking viciousness is nearing madness, I gladly accept being admitted to a mental institution.

"Allison, what was I about to say before Mr. Grey lost his shit?" I ask.

"You were going to clear up a situation."

"Oh, you are right. Mr. Faulk and Mr. Kirkland, I can tell from your expressions you are both shocked and puzzled over what you have seen. What I provided you with is a glimpse of Mr. Grey's very private life."

"Anastasia, keep your mouth shut!" Christian roars, finally finding his voice.

"Sir, please calm down." Taylor says calmly.

"Mr. Grey, I will not warn you again. It will be very unpleasant if you utter another menacing word to my client, and frankly, I am sick of you." Bee snaps, obviously sickened of dealing with the insanity that is Christian Grey.

Christian keeps his mouth shut, but I am sure he is planning my murder and how Taylor will dispose of my body.

"Christian, I won't go into the gory details of your BDSM lifestyle, or the fact that you are a self-proclaimed Dom, if you will simply sign this paper Allison has. You have no use or interest in those buildings, so sign them over to me. Jesus, Christian. I am sure you would just sell them anyway. They are going to be used for a good cause, along with my new downtown property."

The fact I said I would not out him and his penchant for BDSM and did so anyway, has Christian's hands fisted and he is pressing them tightly in his air. His knuckles are white. If it were not for his yes man, and being under the double threat of Luke and Tom beating him to a pulp, there is no telling what Christian would do.

"Mr. Grey, are you willing to relinquish ownership of your property to Ana?" Allison asks.

We watch the piece of shit grab the document and scrawl his name across it, and then he signs the copy that his legal team will retain. Christian was only being an asshole over keeping four empty buildings to feel like he had the upper hand. What an idiot.

"Mrs. Darlington and Ms. Kendall, may we inquire if we are proceeding with negotiations?" Kirkland asks hesitantly.

"Yes, Mr. Kirkland. We are proceeding even though I would not refer to anything as negotiating." Allison replies.

The lovely, yet despicable gray eyes of Christian Grey are mangling Allison Kendall. Allison is everything in a woman that Christian hates. She is strong, self-confident, mouthy, intelligent, and does not take anyone's shit. It is all of those same reasons that Christian despises Katherine.

I gently elbow Luke to get out of my way so that I can take my seat. Allison had always wanted to handle all of this and right now, I could not be more grateful. I am mentally exhausted from everything that has transpired thus far. I try to get Luke's attention once again, and again I fail. There is no doubt that he is ignoring me and does not give a shit that it is obvious. The fact makes me frown and, honestly, a tad emotional. The only thing that I can think of that could have pissed him off was being alone with Christian, but he knew that we were only talking, so why would that piss him off? Now I am getting pissed because he is pissed. When I catch a glance at Mr. I Wanna Fuck My Mother, he is pointedly glaring at us both. I want to flip him off.

Allison is efficiently gathering what she needs and placing them in neat little stacks. I notice that Bee took possession of the flash drives and placed them in her lap.

Standing up, Allison smoothes down the wrinkles on her green Dior dress and picks up two papers from one of the stacks she placed before her. She begins to make her way to the side of the conference table where the enemies are waiting.

"Gentlemen, we would now like to begin presenting a few more pieces of information. Mrs. Darlington and I know that this information should speed things up. I am quite sure that we all want to hurry up and end this eventful meeting."

"Certainly, Ms. Kendall." Faulk concurs, nodding in agreement and checks his Rolex.

Looking every bit like the school teacher that I had felt like earlier, Allison hands him a document and then proceeds to give Mr. Kirkland an identical one. Christian's forehead wrinkles when she does not present him with one. The big CEO does not like being left out of any situation.

Faulk and Kirkland quickly scan the document Allison has given them and glance in our direction. Both appear puzzled. Christian is chomping at the bit to see what they have been given.

"Gentlemen, the document I have given you does not directly affect the course of these proceedings, but our client feels that Mr. Grey should be made aware of the fact that she now owns this particular property." Allison says.

Both suits subtly shake their heads and look like they are about to speak, but Christian, being the ass fuck that he is, beats them to the punch.

"What property are you talking about? If this doesn't apply to our divorce, then why in the hell do I need to know?" He bites in an annoyed voice.

This time I cannot help but laugh, and luckily for me, Allison isn't close enough to kick me this time.

"Will one of you just give your copy to Captain Curious over there? I just want to enlighten him about something. Jason, I believe you will find this interesting as well." There is no hiding the amusement in my voice.

With his usual uncouth behavior, Christian simply reaches over and grabs Kirkland's copy. He scans it quickly, raises his head, and pins me with a scrutinizing look. He does not bother looking at Jason as he raises the paper to him. Jason takes it and I watch as its meaning sinks in. He cannot hide his annoyance.

"Why in the hell is this deed in your name, Anastasia?" Christian asks.

I roll my eyes at such a stupid question. For such a bright man…

"Ummm….Real Estate 101? Didn't they teach that at Harvard? No, I suspect that wouldn't be a subject some snobby Ivy League brat would require to know about," I reply. "My name is on the deed because I own the condominium, Christian. Before you ask another dumb question, I own it because I went to New York to meet Hillary Wilkins Declan and I bought it from her. It was a real bargain. It only cost me a dollar."

Christian does his trademark hand through hair crap. I am waiting for reality to strike Christian and hear him go off on Taylor and his goon squad. That should be entertaining.

"You went to New York and met with her?" He queries briskly. Christian actually looks surprised.

"Yes, Mr. Grey. Ana traveled to New York, and I traveled with her to make sure her legal rights were protected." Allison answers him. Christian glares at her for answering a question meant for me.

"When did you manage to pull this off? How did you even know where she..."

Sighing, I raise my hand and wave it at him in the hopes he shuts his hole.

"I will answer you the way I did earlier when you asked me something. How I knew where she lives is none of your concern. When did I manage to pull this off? Let the answer be the purchase date listed on the deed. Like you have always reminded me, Christian. Information is easy to get if a person wants it badly enough."

Christian exhales deeply, shrugs his suit jacket off, and deftly loosens his tie. Looking at the jacket reminds me of the playroom pictures that he shoved inside its inner pocket. I push that visual out of my mind. Since Christian still hasn't blown a gasket over what happened to his sub getaway, it is obvious he has not remembered.

Throwing a large fuck it into the wind, I decide to tell him myself.

"Jason, you are a smart guy, and I am pretty sure you have already jumped straight to the conclusion that I was the one who hired the construction company and had the entire condo gutted. I even contracted the company to begin its demolition before I left Seattle and headed to New York," I say.

I purposely giggle as I finish my little admission and look at Christian coquettishly. Before I continue, I notice that Luke is staring at me and looks highly pissed. I can feel my cheeks redden under his displeased reaction, although I am determined to needle Christian a bit more.

"Christian, you might think I acted brazenly by having that condo demolished before I actually owned it. That was not the case though. Even before I approached her, it was guaranteed that Mrs. Declan would be willing to sell the little sub shack you so kindly bought her. Let's just say I made her an offer that she couldn't refuse."

Christian jumps up, although this time it is to get into Taylor's face. It is situations like this that make me wonder why Taylor is standing here taking this shit and not in some nice, little home with Gail.

"Again! Again? Your goddamn idiots fucked up, again? How in the hell was this shit missed? You just took that bitch at her word, and believed her when she cried and whined about not knowing shit about what happened to that condominium? You even said the cunt had to have been behind it since she still owned the goddamn place! I swear to God, you are all fucking incompetent, and I should fire your ass, Taylor! FUCK!" Christian roars at Taylor.

I would say that Taylor took his chastisement in stride, but I have seen Christian go crazy and threaten to fire him so many times, it would be a waste of breath. Then again, saying anything about these two weasels is a waste of my breath. I raise an eyebrow that is directed at them both.

"Oh, Christian, give Jason a damn break! It isn't his fault that Luke found a team of super sleuths that are light years better than his," I laugh, rubbing salt in their wounds. "Maybe Luke's guys can give your inept bunch of idiots a few classes on having common sense. Maybe they need to be taught how to uncover who is two steps ahead of them."

Christian turns to me. His hatred is blatant and flammable. I am so glad that I have never used hairspray.

"Mr. Grey, you shouldn't speak so unkindly about your former sub. I promise that her crying and whining was not bullshit. Mrs. Declan had many reasons to keep her mouth shut." I say.

"Why would you say that, Anastasia?" Christian asks, his eyes are so narrow they resemble the slits of a snake's eyes.

How fitting.

"Because I can. I am sure you found that Mrs. Declan's life seemed quite disrupted, and that fucked up every one of your threats that you lambasted the woman with, and I will not even bring up the money you tried to bribe her with. The minute she turned down such a hefty pay off, I would have immediately thought she was afraid of something. I guess that slipped your mind since you were so enraged that you could not use your second playroom with Miss Sams. Pity, isn't it?"

Despite my words, Christian's expression has not changed. He has placed his palms on the table and is leaning in my direction.

"Are you inadvertently saying you are the reason for the disturbances in Mrs. Declan's life, Anastasia?"

I barely shake my head and shrug my shoulders at him. I am done with this topic. Let us move on.

"No I'm not. But you are," I look at Allison. "I think we can continue."

I smile at her as her eyes light up. Allison is not deriving pleasure from driving Christian Grey into a mental frenzy. She was a victim of domestic violence, and her abuser got off with a slap on his wrist. Since then, she takes the cases of abusive husband's quite seriously. Even if Christian's method of abusing me was not exactly the norm.

The pressure that Christian's body weight is putting on his palms have turned his entire hands a freaky shade of white. He looks drunk on his ire. The suits remain quiet as they watch this most confusing situation unfurl before them.

Once again, Allison starts handing out documents. This time she does have one for Christian and just places it on the table between his two arms. I feel Luke place a hand on the back of my chair, and I assume he has done it in a protective manner since Christian's volatile temper could very well explode as soon as he realizes what he is looking at. I train my eyes on Taylor as Allison practically tosses the same documents at him. He doesn't bother looking through the pages. The first one says it all. Taylor's lips become a thin line and he looks at Luke in a rather weird fashion. His anger is obvious, although I cannot miss a tiny glimpse of pride.

Christian, like Taylor, only reads the top paper. Nevertheless, Faulk and Kirkland do, and yet again, the poor, clueless souls look every bit of being a poor and clueless soul.

Getting no response, Allison clears her throat to get their attention and stands at the end of the table. I am not paying attention to her though; all of my attention is centered on Christian Grey. Whatever his reason is, he remains immobile and still has not looked up. His eyes are still on that piece of paper.

"As you can very well see, the documents I have given you are official hospital records from Swedish Medical Center, which we all know is located in Seattle. The first page that you have is a copy of the emergency room triage exam dated January 13th, 2013. The patient's pertinent information is located on the top of that sheet and tells us that the patient was a female by the name of Hillary Wilkins." Allison's tone is so matter-of-fact and blasé.

Before she resumes, we can all hear Christian lowly mutter, "Mother fucker."

"What was that, Mr. Grey?" Bee asks him sarcastically.

We are finally gifted with being able to look at Christian's face when he raises his head and looks directly at Bee Darlington. However, he does not reply. What he does do is slowly turn his head to me. In that one, eye-locking instant, there is no one else in the room other than the two of us. I discovered much more than he ever could have imagined, and Christian has no idea how to react or what to do.

Whatever is going on in the mind of this freak is unknown. Nevertheless, all one has to do is look at Christian to see that Christian recognizes the ball has long since been out of his court. I toss my hair back and look away.

"Before I was interrupted, I was going over the details of these medical records, which begin with Hillary Wilkins, now Hillary Declan's emergency room visit, her surgery and subsequent recovery. Miss Wilkins was admitted to the hospital and operated on for a fracture of her right arm. It was broken in three places. Her arm could only be repaired by having two metal rods inserted in order to stabilize it. Of course, those rods will have to remain in place for the course of Mrs. Declan's life."

Kirkland speaks up and interrupts Allison.

"I apologize once again, Ms. Kendall, but what bearing does this have on these proceedings? Mr. Faulk and I understand the situation between Mr. and Mrs. Grey now, and that this divorce is more complicated than we were aware of. But what does this woman's medical history have anything to do with your client or Mr. Grey?"

"Apology accepted, Mr. Kirkland. Mrs. Declan's medical history plays a huge part in our proceedings," Allison says, looking pointedly at Christian. "There is also documentation of where Mrs. Declan had home health provided for her after her discharge, along with a large amount of money that was deposited into her private bank account. Once healthy enough to travel, Mrs. Declan hurriedly returned to her home in Brooklyn, New York. If you will, please take out the deed to the property Ana now owns and compare that address to the address provided by the former Miss Wilkins when she was taken to Swedish Medical Center. You will see that they are one in the same. This may appear irrelevant, but the last two documents prove otherwise. They show the address on the property deed I have provided you with, along with the one Miss Wilkins gave the ER staff at Swedish, was purchased by Mr. Christian Grey. If you look through those earlier contracts of Mr. Grey's you were given, you can compare the dates of when Mr. Grey entered some sort of contractual sexual arrangement with the former Miss Wilkins. Look closely at the date Mr. Christian Grey terminated this contractual agreement with the former Miss Wilkins, and you will note that it was January 13th, 2013. We also have documentation that serves as proof that Mr. Christian Grey paid Hillary Wilkins, now Declan's entire hospital bill, her home health care, as well as depositing a large amount of cash into Miss Declan's bank account."

With that, Christian Grey turns into Christian Grey, the Dominant.

He faces Allison, and as I have always wondered how, seems to grow taller and more angular. Christian's lips twist in some creepy and evil form that I cannot even begin to describe, and his eyes are downright frightening. He tilts his head down a fraction before speaking.

"What. In. The. Fuck. Are. You. Implying. Ms. Whatever. The. Fuck. Your. Name. Is." He grits through his clenched teeth.

His words are a statement instead of a question. Hell, I would say they are more of a demand and no doubt a threat.

Allison Kendall purses her lips at Christian and meets his eyes dead on. She is as intimidated by him as she would be of a miniature Yorkie. He remains in that ridiculous pose for minutes, and it is only when Taylor once again saves the day that Christian must remember where he is.

"Whatever the fuck my name is, Grey, is Allison Kendall. You can rest your mind that no one is implying anything. There is not a need for implications when one has proof. My advice to you would be to listen to your yes man and take a seat. In addition, do not waste a breath and threaten my career or me as you tried to pull with Mr. Sawyer. You aren't in any position to do that, I can assure you."

"Mr. Grey, as your personal attorney, I believe it is in your best interest to calm down and take a seat. I am sure that we will be done shortly and that Ana is using this information for her own benefit to obtain whatever she described as her demands. I ask you to respectfully allow us to keep this professional." Mr. Kirkland says disparagingly.

This time I nearly lunge across the table. The ass fuck may be telling the truth, but he sure as fuck shouldn't talk down to me or look at me as if I am shit on the bottom of his shoe.

Christian throws him a fuck you look and begrudgingly takes a seat. His glare trained directly at me.

"Alright, Ms. Kendall, you've established that Mr. Grey provided Mrs. Declan with a home, along with paying her hospital bills, and providing her with a large amount of money. Is this the proof you referred to being proof of Mr. Grey's infidelity? Because if it isn't, then why are we even discussing these events?" Mr. Faulk asks.

Yet again, I laugh. Only this time, Bee glares at me.

"Mrs. Darlington, would you like to answer our colleague's question?"

Bee nods at Allison and places her folded arms on the table. Her lovely face unmarred from any sort of emotion.

"Mr. Faulk, what Ms. Kendall was so kindly trying to say is that it was your client that inflicted the ghastly injury to Miss Hillary Wilkins."

My twinkling eyes directly strike their intended target and said target is returning a heat-seeking missile of his own. From the corner of my eye, I notice that Taylor is slightly rocking back and forth on the heels of his shoes.

Yeah, Taylor, I know all about your part in this shit, you fuck stain.

The suits clear their throats uncomfortably and look at their eerily quiet client.

"What has led you to believe that? That is quite an accusation to make against someone, even in the confines of a legally confidential meeting," Kirkland irritably snaps. "This is yet another fact that has nothing to do with the Grey's divorce, and I am almost at the point of advising my client that we should conclude this meeting."

Bee pays no mind to his threat.

"We weren't led to believe anything. Hillary Wilkins Declan told us what happened to her on January 13th, 2013." Bee replies, although she is not looking at Faulk and Kirkland while she speaks. Her eyes are focused directly on Christian.

Christian leans forward in his chair. He is an odd shade of green with some of that red Grey fury mixed in.

Kirkland throws him a look of warning before Christian can open his mouth.

"So you took this woman's word that our client is responsible for her injury? Again, such an accusation based upon the word of a scorned woman is pure hearsay. Not to mention treading on dangerous territory." Kirkland says.

"I am treading on dangerous territory, Kirkland? Have you read a page from your client's handbook and are now attempting to intimidate me?" She asks. "Because I promise you that is a tactic that will not work on me."

My, God, this is like watching General Hospital on steroids. The only thing dampening my good mood is the ugly truth of why this is all happening. Yeah, Ana. Revel in this short-lived game of cat and mouse; because once it is over, it is back to reality. Reality being your fucking life. The reality that hit my brain stem earlier when I recognized the truth over what I still had not dealt with and what I had been hiding from my heart. That is one reality that I will have to deal with and suffer through once I leave this law firm.

"Of course not, Mrs. Darlington. I am simply stating a fact. Do you have a copy of Mrs. Declan's accusation? I have to once again voice the obvious; your client does not have to make her point in this way since we all can see this is nothing more than an attack on Mr. Grey. It may be a private one that is meant to embarrass him in front of his legal counsel, but it is still a personal attack nonetheless."

I nearly bite my tongue off trying not to verbally tear this bastard apart. However, it is the smug look on Christian's face that infuriates me and once again fueled my desire to slice that look off his face. ,

"Mr. Kirkland, the only person in the room who has embarrassed himself is your client, and you have witnessed his behavior yourself. We are blue in the face from explaining that what we are presenting to you and your client is an essential part of this meeting. If our client has proof of Mr. Grey's infidelity, that is pertinent to this meeting. I understand you are reticent that other information may be disclosed, along with your desire that Mr. Grey does not fire your ass the minute this meeting is over. I assume that your client approves to keep this confined to these four walls," Bee replies softly. Her eyes pierce into Kirkland's, and then she turns to Christian, her eyebrow raised. "Am I correct, Mr. Grey?"

The very same smug expression covers Christian's face, and he smirks at Bee and merely nods at her. Puzzling.

"As I thought."

Bee pulls her laptop closer, and I watch her remove the flash drive from her lap and hold it up so the four men of the Apocalypse can see it. Kirkland and Faulk made no show of hiding their displeasure and their apprehension. I cannot help but throw a provoking glance at Christian, who is now eyeing Taylor curiously.

"What I have here is one of the detailed descriptions that Mrs. Declan gave concerning the night of January 13th, 2013. This one was given to my partner, Allison Kendall, during a meeting on July 30th, 2015, in Brooklyn, New York. My client was present at this meeting as well. Please turn your attention to the projection screen so you can all hear and see it for yourselves. Will someone lower the lighting and push that button on the left wall, please?"

Christian's head whips to mine so fast I will be shocked if he does not end up with whiplash. The tinge of a smile plays on the corners of my lips before I mouth, "Just watch." at him, as he glares at me furiously.

Seemingly, from out of nowhere, a large projection screen falls from the ceiling. It is on the wall closest to Christian and Taylor.

Tom seems to be the one who turned down the lights and lowered the screen. Bee inserts the flash drive into her computer, but before she can bring up the footage, Mr. Faulk stops her.

"Mrs. Darlington, I won't bother bringing up the necessity of this dog and pony show, but may I inquire what you meant by one of the detailed descriptions you referred to earlier." He asks.

Bee continues the task and answers him without looking in his direction.

"You just did inquire and you will have your answer shortly. Now let's proceed."

Within a matter of seconds, the recorded footage that Craig, the IT genius, cut so it begins with Allison showing Hillary Declan her medical files from Swedish, along with the fact that I am sitting beside her. It continues with Mrs. Declan telling the details of how and where she was when Christian Grey broke her arm. From there, we watch pixie cut point out Taylor's picture, and says he was the one who drove her to the hospital, and how she never saw or heard from Christian again. Hillary Declan continues her story and explains when and where she met my joke of a husband and that he moved her to Seattle and purchased her a home. On and on it went, even to the stupid fact that someone had to have been feeding her damn cat. After that useless bit of information, the recording ends and I suppose it is Tom who turns the lights back on. The projection screen remains lowered.

When pixie cut identified Taylor as the man who took her to the hospital, I pointedly looked at him with eyes full of disappointment. He looks back at me and his face is full of remorse. Remorse? Remorse over what? Remorse for sticking like super glue to one twisted son of a bitch, or being so callous that he took this woman to an emergency room and essentially left her there? I wouldn't spit on that woman if she was ablaze, although I can imagine how afraid she must have been, seriously injured and an entire coast away from everyone she knew. Then again, I cannot apologize when I think she deserved it.

Christian had not looked at the screen the entire time the recording played, but I looked away almost immediately. Hearing it was bad enough, and I sure as fuck did not want to look at the rent-a- whore ever again. Having to listen to her voice again was enough to make me want to vomit in my own lap. If asked to tell the truth, I would have admitted to the fact that I really did not want to be in the room when the recording was played. Not because it hurt me, but because it embarrassed me. It was visual and audible proof that I was the idiot that I always knew I was. Having a lurking feeling of insecurity only crashes into you harder when you discover that feeling was the truth and you just never listened to yourself. I chose to ignore my feelings and look where that led me. Back to months pain, and never ending thoughts of revenge. Can I attribute the fact that I didn't act upon my instinct because I was so young when I met and married Christian? No, I don't think so. I had been in relationships before, and one was a very ,serious long-term relationship. I understood my natural insecurities, and acted on them before allowing myself to become a doormat. Can I blame it on Christian and how he dazzled me to not act on my insecurities? I honestly cannot say. The only truth that I do know is that any feelings of self-doubt that I had prior to meeting Christian Grey were nothing compared to the gut instincts I felt while we were together. Whatever that may or may not mean. It takes me a while to realize that Luke's hand is on my shoulder before I tear my thoughts out of a dark and confusing place.

Bee Darlington wastes no time jumping from our joyful movie time to having two documents in her hand. Even if she had, the suits have once again been stunned to the core listening to Christian's ex sub detail his fondness for suspending women as he flogs and fucks them.

"Gentlemen, what I have here is the second detailed description of the occurrence of January 13th, 2013. Again, the former Miss Wilkins gave this description and documented that one. Christian Trevelyan-Grey, is in fact the man that caused her injury. Mr. Kirkland, after you read that, tell me if I am still treading near dangerous territory." Bee says in a tone that would slice through a block of ice.

Having turned his body away from the projection screen, Christian now turns to look at Bee as she hands a single piece of paper that Mr. Faulk takes. Faulk visibly pales within seconds.

"What the fuck is it?" Christian demands, his arm reaching across the table to grab it. As always, Taylor stops him.

Mr. Faulk does not answer his boss, although he looks at me, and then slowly moves his eyes to Bee, his eyes relaying his every thought. Faulk knows that Christian could be fucked either way. He slides the affidavit to Kirkland and his expression morphs from the belittling one he had while staring at me into one of alarm.

"Mr. Grey, what I have presented to your counsel is a sworn legal affidavit by the former Hillary Wilkins. She drew up this affidavit prior to leaving the state of Washington. An intelligent man such as yourself knows what an affidavit is, but your counsel should explain the two choices that the current Mrs. Declan is making at this time." Bee says flatly.

I am surprised by Christian's reaction. The impatient anger he was showing moments ago has deflated into shock. Naturally, the CEO knows what an affidavit is, and I have no doubt that he understands it is something one should not take lightly. Christian is running both of his hands through his hair and his gray eyes are wide. Taylor has even been caught off guard.

"Mr. Grey, Hillary Wilkins Declan made a sworn affidavit against you in February of 2013. Everything in this written complaint matches the statement we just heard her describe on the recording Mrs. Darlington has in her possession. This affidavit is a valid and legal document and became one when Miss Wilkins, as she was known at the time, took an oath before a public notary in King County, Washington. All of the needed information, such as her address, is the same as what we already know. I am referring to the address on the home you purchased her, along with the one on her medical records." Mr. Faulk says. His eyes have hardened while they take Christian in and it would seem as if Mr. Faulk had just made some sort of decision concerning his employer.

For a fraction of a second, Christian does not utter a word as his now wild eyes fly over everyone in the room.

"Meaning?" He finally manages to ask.

"Mr. Grey, simply put, Mrs. Declan can use this affidavit to take you to civil court and sue you for the abuse she suffered at your hand, or she could use it to file criminal charges against you." Allison replies.

"FUCK!" Christian yells loudly, rising to his feet. This time he manages to get around Taylor, although he has no intent to do anything other than pace the room like a caged animal. Which of course he is.

"Why in the hell would she choose to do this shit now? Two fucking years later? This makes no goddamn sense." Christian is muttering to himself and then he suddenly stops and turns to me.

"What in the fuck did you do, Anastasia?" He growls, pointing at me. "What. In. The. Fuck. Did. You. Do?"

Luke turns and faces Christian, although he has not moved from the spot in which he planted himself. I turn my upper body around so I can stare dead center on Christian Grey. My face is an empty canvas.

"Tell me, Anastasia. How did you get her to do this? This is why she was petrified when she was contacted by Ta..."

Slowly, I shake my head at him. The untold depths to this man must be cavernous and only concern self-preservation. Is Christian correct accusing me of being the one behind this large stone of trouble that could potentially roll his way? Yes. Was it forced upon Hillary Declan and I left her no room to refuse? Yes. But it was all the truth, wasn't it? Perhaps it wasn't intentional; perhaps at the disgusting time Hillary Declan was enjoying having my husband pound her in such a fashion, but was it right or even humane how Christian treated that young woman? No. Is that the opinion of ninety-nine percent on the United States? Yes. Do I understand why a young woman such as the former Hillary Wilkins turned tail and ran away from the Pacific Northwest? Absolutely. She knew whose whore she had been and the wealth and power Christian has. Is that why she never came back to Washington to seek retribution or sell that condominium? Yes. Were my actions motivated to place Christian right where I wanted him, which is right where he is? Of course. I have never blamed those submissives for Christian's horrific choices and fucked up mind, although if they were anything like Hillary Wilkins Declan, they each did deserve some retribution. She had secretly kept Christian's pay off money and spent it behind her husband's unknowing back. She nearly had a coronary when she was stripped of the money my sick husband provided her with. Hillary Declan may have stopped allowing Dominants cane her, but her little Catholic soul had not turned pure again. Did she deserve everything she got? Did the other four deserve everything they got? I do not give a fuck who you are or what your opinion is. I did what Christian Grey would have done, only I actually did not do as much harm as he would have. They got what they had coming to them, and while I know those Christian Grey, CEO decisions were harsh; I have zero regrets and would do it again. I, after all, did not deserve a drop of the pain that was poured down my throat. That same throat that swallowed the cum of that bastard, Christian Grey. My God, I should drink some bleach.

"Mr. Grey, our client had nothing to do with the former Miss Wilkins filing that affidavit. You can read it and clearly see it was drawn up in February of 2013, and unfortunately, our client was not aware of the contracted sexual relationship you had with Miss Wilkins at that time. Perhaps you have forgotten Ana only became aware of your contracted relationships in April of 2015. There is no way she played a hand in this matter. Obviously, Mrs. Declan was so traumatized by her treatment that she felt the need to protect herself against you if she needed to do so in the future." Allison says, not even bothering to turn around and look at Christian while she speaking to him.

Christian glowers at her back. The man never likes to have the truth pointed out to him. How can one part of his brain be so brilliant and the other side so ignorant? Christian has done so many wonderful and humanitarian deeds for the poor and hungry around the world, yet he cut his family out of his life for years and then used my life as a tennis ball he was throwing against a wall for fun.

Christian, breathing deeply and nostrils flaring, slowly closes his eyes in an attempt to control himself. Amazingly, it works. Luke and I watch him stroll back to take his seat. Taylor looks extremely relieved. Christian looks at the suits. Kirkland has lost his attitude that this meeting is just a game to make Mr. Grey look bad. Kirkland and Faulk both know how real everything has suddenly become, and are looking at Bee and Allison in a brand new light.

Kirkland clears what sounds like a golf ball from his throat. He is thoughtfully tapping his pen on the pad before him, and there is a pregnant pause in the air before he speaks.

"Ladies, since your client has discovered the existence of this disturbing bit of information, "He says, gesturing around the room. "Let us just lay this all on the line. We have been here hours and your client does not want any settlement offer from Mr. Grey. She plainly said she has demands. There is no doubt that this damning affidavit is to have those demands met. Can these demands be requested now so we can wrap this up?"

And Bee said Faulk was the prick.

"Mr. Kirkland, our client has simply shown Mr. Grey what she has run across over the course of several months of uncovering her husband's multiple betrayals. We have not uttered a syllable threatening to use any of this against your client in order to get what Ana wants, have we? If that is the way you and your client see it, then that's your prerogative," Bee replies tersely. "And no, Mr. Kirkland, we do not want to wrap things up yet. We aren't quite done here."

Kirkland sighs deeply.

Both of the suits turn their heads slowly to their client's face. Their body language says it all. They are both screaming, "What could possibly be worse than what we have already found out?"

I swear Faulk is beginning to foam at the mouth.

"Mr. Grey, is there anything that you need to tell us before Mrs. Darlington continues? I am not up to anymore shocking surprises." Faulk's words are thick with disgust.

Yep, he will be looking for a janitor's position tomorrow.

Christian blinks rapidly and tosses a suspicious glance at me. My expression has not faltered; I appear emotionless. The deafening silence in the room blasts my ears. The longer Christian and I stare at one another, the more my eyes freeze into arctic ice. Everyone else around us has melted away, and it is just two people who disastrously met at the Fairmont Hotel one morning.

"Can you answer Mr. Faulk's question, Anastasia?" Christian hisses from across the table.

I remain quiet. As quiet as I should have remained that very first time this man called me. But there is no need for me to say anything now. Soon our surroundings will be abounding with the repugnant lifestyle of Christian, and I would do anything to wake up from this nightmare so that I do not have to sit and hear it.

"I'll answer for my client, Mr. Grey. Ana will address you shortly. Yes, there is just one more thing that we would like to share with you and your counsel. To answer your question, Mr. Faulk, it is shocking. Well, shocking is an understatement," Bee replies in a short and clipped tone.

The eyes of Christian and his three amigos land on me when they see Bee placing another flash drive in her computer. They all know what to expect and whip their heads to that fucking bigger than life screen. Dread etched upon each of their faces. I catch Taylor throw Luke a questioning glance, although I cannot see Luke's reaction since he has resumed his place behind me.

"The footage you will be shown has a time and date stamp down in the lower right hand side. I will begin with the first recording, and after that, I will randomly select a few others, and then conclude with the last one which, as the date shall show you, was yesterday afternoon. This was all done legally since our client is the wife of Mr. Christian Grey, and also legally owns half of the penthouse at Escala. I warn that this is graphic, pornographic, and unfortunately, shows your client, actually, it proves that your client is physically abusive. I do not care if Mr. Grey did have a contract deeming this behavior consensual." Allison's profoundly strong words even shake me up a bit.

Christian has once again swung his head to face mine. His eyes are wide and lips are in a thin line. The look of panic on his face is priceless. He knows. He knows what Allison's words meant because the majority of people would describe the way HE practices BDSM exactly how Allison described it. Christian's idea of a BDSM relationship fell far away from the actual theory that such a lifestyle is based upon trust, and two people partaking in acts because of that trust. A real BDSM relationship is not driven by the violent urges of a man to practically shred the skin off of a woman's back or ass, whether it is consensual or not. How and why there were any submissives so willing to allow themselves to be treated so terribly escapes me. I can only assume for every off kilter sadist, there must be an equally off kilter masochist.

Even before Tom turns the lights down again, I turn my head and lock eyes with Luke. He knows that I never asked to see this shit, never wanted to see this shit, and never even wanted to imagine what that flash drive was tainted with. Whatever the reason he was so pissed at me earlier seems to have dissipated. He is looking down at me with eyes that are telling me to stay strong and that I will be fine. There is not a hint of pity or sympathy in them. That is why Lucas Sawyer is and has been my rock. The solid foundation upon which I am re- building myself. Of course, Katherine is the other half of that foundation, and I can hear her telling me, "Tear him to shreds, Steele."

There is nothing that I can do to prevent from hearing it. If I were to get up and leave the room, I would feel as if Christian saw me as being weak. I do not want to hear it. Hear her. Hear him. Hear them. I do not want to hear it. I do not want to leave. I do not want to appear weak.

Therefore, I remain seated, looking up at Luke, who places his large and reassuring hand on my shoulder.

Less than a second passes and I can hear it. Hear her. Hear him. Hear them. My guts churn and they feel as though that have been lit on fire. I keep my eyes locked on Luke's and try, try, try to think of anything or anywhere in this world where I could pretend to be, rather than where I am.

I can see in his eyes where I am: A sullen thirteen-year-old girl, wearing a pink dress with a lacy collar because Ray always made us go to church. Luke's eyes reflect when I was a shy sixteen-year-old dressed in a pale blue prom dress and being stabbed in the boob from the pin of a corsage that my nervous prom date was trying to put on me. Luke's eyes are showing me the nineteen-year-old WSUV student, reading Hemingway while Kate drags out every slutty outfit she owned and tries them on before a hot date. Luke's unwavering eyes are showing me everything that I need to see and remember, in the hopes that it blocks out the sounds of sickness that have surrounded me.

I have reached through the armrest of my chair and have grasped onto the fabric of Luke's pants. I have to focus on what is real in my life and what has been real in my life these three plus years. Luke has been there and he is real. What I am trying to shut out of my mind was never real to me. Yes, it was happening and I was oblivious. I am no longer lost in oblivion. My life is now real and tangible. What is filling the air is not me and it never was about me. It is a simple and pure fact of my life. A mountain that I had to find a way to maneuver around or climb over.

Once that mountain is in my rear view window, I will never look at it again.

I vaguely hear Allison's words as she directed everyone's attention to dates and times. I vaguely hear the roaring of a man on a murderous rampage who is being man handled by Taylor. I vaguely hear the mutterings of disbelief and antipathy from the suits. I vaguely hear Bee ordering Tom to come to Taylor's aid, and I vaguely hear Christian hurling every awful and degrading word my way.

Then it all stops.


	27. Chapter 27

All rights to the characters and story of FSoG belong to E. L. James

_**Thursday, September 24**__**th, **__**2015**_

_Vancouver, Washington_

_Ana's POV_

_**Resolutions**_

There is it is yet again.

It is resting on the table between Christian and me.

Only this time it is not a ruined white silk blouse that was once my favorite.

This time it is the cold and sober truth.

Yes, it is invisible as it lies on the table, although that fact does nothing to diminish its strength.

The strength is within the person who entered this room with all of the power.

Now there is not a reason for bemused looks. There is no longer a need to question whether or not there is an impending doom approaching.

Everyone in the room witnessed it and I am positive they will never forget it.

Christian no longer appears bored and is no longer treating me dismissively. His jaws are clenched and his face is one of thunder. Christian's arms are resting on the table and both of his hands are two tight fists. His body is over flowing with anger and I know that anger comes from a loss of control.

I am sitting directly across the table from Christian and accept the brunt of his fury. This man is bloodthirsty. A man so sanguinary, that Taylor is behind him, while Luke and Tom stand on either side of him. If he were in his right mind, he would never allow Luke or Tom near him. Luke was forced into helping Taylor and Tom as they tried to control Christian as soon as the video footage stopped. Taylor talked him down after the three men were finally able to subdue him.

Jason Taylor to the rescue once again.

So here we sit, watching one another, and waiting to see who breaks our stalemate. Christian is in the same place as I am. It is a dark, one-way tunnel where we are the only two people in the room. One person who is bland and has rid herself of all emotion and another person who is emitting a vicious desire to hurt me. However, I am no timorous little mouse and he can presuppose that I fear him all he wants to. That want is wasted.

I am calm and I have finally cleared my mind of what I was just forced to listen to. Cocking my head slightly, I gaze at Christian and wonder what it must be like to live inside his head. All of these months have passed him by and he believed he was in control of his supposed clandestine hours of fucking and flogging. What Christian now realizes is that he never possessed that control and those precious hours of his that he spent in a red room of pain were never clandestine. In fact, they were spectacularly controlled in high definition. It is not that Christian is embarrassed over that playroom footage and that is what has enraged him. What has enraged him is knowing that I trumped him. He was winning at his own secret game until I found out and started playing along, and I ultimately beat him.

Silence permeates the air as we continue to stare at one another. Christian's eyes are fiendish and I imagine the diabolical thoughts that are behind them. They are doing their damndest to bore into my head and break it apart. Although, that will not occur because my mind is impregnable, well built and secure. Christian's cannot gain entry and affect me anymore. Those days are long gone.

Ready to get this over with and get the hell out of here, I once again take control and break our silence.

"I cannot grasp the need you must be feeling right now, Christian. That obsession and compulsion that you have to punish. That rush of endorphins you need to feel as though you are in control of something or someone. I can smell that need from over here. I can see what is running through your mind right now. You are imagining yourself leaving this building and texting Haley Sams to be waiting on her knees for you at Escala. You have already thought up a scene and I am sure us normal people would find it barbaric. I hate to throw a monkey wrench in your plans. If you are not already aware, you will not be able to reach Miss Sams by phone. Miss Sams is like Elvis and she has already left the building." I say softly.

"What in the hell are you going on about? Left what fucking building?" He hisses.

I look up at the ceiling for a moment, placing an index finger on my lips and make a humming noise as if I am thinking about something.

"It means Miss Sams went bye-bye and you had better have Taylor drive you to your favorite BDSM club in Portland so you can find a new sub. You are in luck that we are so close to Portland. Just don't kill the poor brown-haired girl because she reminds you of me. It will not be some subs fault that you need a psychiatric evaluation. Hell, I would say you need immediate hospitalization."

"She went bye-bye? How fucking old are you, Anastasia? How about speaking like an adult and just spit out what you are dying to say."

I snort with derision because of his attitude. He is not the only CEO in the room and the second one is about to make her appearance known.

"Your well paid whore is gone, Christian. I took care of her and she is way past walking distance. I owed you another fuck you and Haley Sams was it. However, it turns out the girl was delusional and thought that Master loved her as she loved him. In my opinion, she was close to telling you that and we both know what a fuck up that would for her."

Christian narrows his eyes and I do the same. I know that it is childish, but I look at him and remember what an adolescent he is and mocking his childish behavior seems fitting.

"How do you know that?" Christian asks brusquely.

"Christian, how do you suppose that I know that? She fucking told me. Ask Kate and Luke if you do not believe me. They were there and heard your little waitress professing her deluded thoughts," I taunt him. Christian will never be allowed to forget that his sister-in-law knows everything.

Christian clenches his jaws again and it frustratingly makes me wish that they would break already so he would quit doing it.

"Katherine met…"

I look behind Christian and see the amused expressions that Luke and Tom share and giggle. Again, I am lucky that I am not close enough for Allison to kick me.

"Yes, Katherine met Haley Sams. Have Taylor or another one of your goon squad look into what happened at Canlis last night. They would inform you what when on while Kate and I tried to have a nice dinner. We are also the reason that Haley Sams was fired. However, who gives a fuck about that? You only want answers because you hate not knowing shit it isn't because you care. Right now, it would not matter if you did care. It is time for us to finish the chess game we have been playing. We have both been playing games that the other one did not know about. I will give you credit that you have been playing yours a lot longer than mine, but it is more than obvious that I didn't need the same amount of time before I could say checkmate."

I watch Christian's frustration take over and his fury subside. Here we goddamn go with his hands in his hair. The next man I fall in love with will be bald.

"Christian, stop working yourself into a panic attack. I have already told you that Kate knows the truth and she has since the night that I found out about you. Who in the hell do you think I went to and talked about all of that shit with? It sure wasn't The Pillsbury Doughboy! It was Kate. Do not pull out your copper waves worrying that she will tell Elliot. She never has and she has not during these past months. Kate was also kind enough to sign the NDA I had drawn up for her, although I seriously doubt you would sue your sister-in-law. As much as Kate despises you, she loves your entire family, along with her husband and she would never expose the truth concerning our divorce. Does your family think we are getting a divorce because you are a cheating bastard? Yes. However, that only came about when Elliot walked in while your whore was eating your dick. Just cool your heels over all of this. Thanksgiving will be a bit uncomfortable between you and Katherine, but other than that do not worry. For what it is worth, Christian, I hope you will not turn into that same dick who abandoned his family. They actually love you for you. Hell, even if you walked out of this room and admitted your lifestyle to each of them, they would still love you. You are the one who refuses to see that. I do not even think you want to understand why you shut yourself off from people who actually love you. Shit! Why am I offering the likes of you assurances of being loved? That isn't what the fuck we are here for." I say testily, annoyed at myself.

Christian leans back, crossing his arms across his chest, and smirks at me. He is nearing that invisible line between being cocky and not realizing he should watch the fuck out.

"Nancy Drew, I have got to hand it to you. I never thought you and your Polly Anna mind could come up with such intricate and downright devious plans. However, I cannot give you too much credit. I am sure if you had not had Sawyer's know how we would not be stuck in this quagmire. I am impressed with those obviously high tech devices installed at the penthouse and the second location." He replies in a sarcastic tone and words that crossed the border of insolence.

I raise my eyebrows and grace him with a genuine smile. Christian does not seem to like my reaction.

"Oh, so you refer to that condo as the second location? Oh, fuck you. You are not impressed with how anyone did anything. You are probably out of your mind over a few valid reasons. One, I was the one behind it all. Two, someone gained entry under the nose of your top notch security and installed some serious shit in those so-called playrooms of yours. Finally yet importantly, the aforementioned top-notch security had no fucking clue you and your lackeys were monitored by shit straight out of Star Wars. You idiots think you and your CCTV bullshit is bullet proof. Well, Christian, I guess you have learned the hard way that nothing is bulletproof," I say. My tone is tinged with an undercurrent of mirth. "Your fucked up head can believe I think like an innocent Polly Anna type of woman. But you are never going to forget that all women are a little violent under their pleasant ways."

His face gives nothing away, although if it did it would be pointless because I no longer give a shit. Our eyes connect in a manner that is disjointed. Just like the pretend Mr. and Mrs. Christian Grey were.

"Are the divorce papers ready to be signed?" I ask no one in particular while never breaking eye contact with the King of Pain.

"Yes, Ana. All of the documents for the dissolution of the marriage are ready for you both to sign," Allison replies. "Along with the other documents you are required to sign."

Before I am able to open my mouth again, the smug bastard named Christian Grey grabs a pen off the table and is looking exceptionally pleased with himself. He needs to add that he is deaf, along with being smug and pleased. He obviously missed something quite important.

"Kirkland, give me what I need to sign. This day is over." Christian snaps.

"Mr. Grey, I strongly advise that we should pay heed to Ms. Kendall. Her client must have more to say…" Faulk interjects.

Well, Christian's attorney seems to have caught it.

"I am done with listening to her errant client. I said this meeting is over." He yells, sounding like a petulant child.

I find myself quietly laughing at Christian. I had already wondered if he was insane and now he has proven that he is. Does Christian think this day is over simply because he declared it so? He thinks he is just signing a paper ending our contract made in hell and then up and leave. Were his brains scattered throughout the room during the past two hours? Is his skull now vacant and he has no way to comprehend that my show and tell was not for shits and giggles. He is certifiable. Someone should have brought a straight jacket and a large injection of Thorazine.

"Are you that arrogant or just fucking stupid?" I ask.

He raises an eyebrow at me and remains silent. I suppose that eyebrow move was meant as a threat. Some threat that was, you stupid fuck.

"You do not intimidate me, Mr. Grey. Have you forgotten that we have unfinished business or are you blocking it from your mind? Trust me, if you think I blew your life out of the water for the hell of it, you are dumber than you look. So hang on to that pen until I am ready for you to use it. That is when you are going to need it."

Mr. CEO or Dominant or who the fuck really cares, steeples his long fingers in front of his mouth and studies me. No, Christian. This woman is not bluffing and you can shove that stupid finger thing you always do right up your ass.

"You must have not been listening while Ms. Kendall was speaking. She has more documents that require your signature, along with our divorce papers. Each piece of paper that makes up those documents are not meant to be paper airplanes. Every one of them is startling important and has a pretty little place at the bottom of it where your name is required. You are the boy genius CEO, so I don't have to tell you how this is going to work."

Christian is scrutinizing my now blank face.

"How what works, Anastasia?" He asks slowly.

"Acquisitions, Christian."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He asks, his tone is now menacing.

"I am talking about every nauseating moment of this day. I am talking about every nauseating day I spent breathing the same air as you. I am talking about every single copy there is to every nauseating bit of information that our little group has had to endure today. Does that explain what I am talking about?"

Leaning across the table, Christian glares at me

"Oh, I see it now, Anastasia. Here I was thinking how weak your backbone is and was going to applaud you for the little show you have put on today. So go ahead and blackmail me for your little demands that you referred to earlier. Come on, I am dying to hear how much you want to line your pockets with." He snarls.

"You have no idea whether or not I want to line my pockets with anything. Drop the snarling dog act. You are the only person in this room who does not seem to know he is about to have his ass handed to him and if I were you I would let that sink in and shut the fuck up."

"Mother fuck…" He starts to say.

"What part of shutting the fuck up don't you get, Grey?" I ask loudly as I feel myself losing my temper. "You are going to listen to me and then you are going to do what I say, got it?

Whatever calm exterior I was expertly portraying just cracked wide open. Take it easy, Ana. Do not let your anger fuck with your thinking.

The Christian Grey leans toward me a bit further and I watch as the right hand of Luke Sawyer grabs his shoulder and pulls him back. Christian turns to him with lightning speed and Taylor latches onto Luke's arm in what look like a death grip. Before any testosterone is spilled, Tom quickly overpowers Taylor and in the blink of an eye, Taylor's arm is back at his side.

"I wouldn't try that again if I were you, brother." Tom tells Jason nonchalantly.

Taylor does not answer him, although he looks at me and then bends down, and whispers something to Christian, who does not utter a word to Luke. Jesus Christ, all three of these hulks are like the Bionic Man. I really believe there must be a factory near Seattle that builds them on an assembly line.

"I want each of you men to quit pissing on one another. We are fed up with this entire day and each scenario that we have dealt with. Mr. Grey, you and Ana need to finish this now. Not in fifteen or thirty minutes, but now. Ana, start talking." Bee Darlington snaps, angrily shoving her laptop across the table.

I remove my folded arms from the table, sit up in my chair, and calmly start to speak. My voice, my face, and my eyes are void of any emotion.

"Allison."

Allison strides to me and places four manila folders in front of me. Three of them are quite thicker than the last one. Christian watches impassively while I open the one of top and go to a page that has a red Post-it flag attached to it.

"Christian, your liquid net worth is thirty-six-point-seven billion dollars. This folder contains the necessary contract and a settlement agreement in which you are giving me eighteen-point-thirty-five billion dollars. You are a math whiz. You do not need a calculator to know that is a nice even half of your net worth."

Quickly sitting straight up, he looks at me incredulously, and his eyes dart to Kirkland and Faulk.

"You are out of your goddamn mind, Anastasia," He laughs sarcastically. "Did you walk into this meeting thinking I would hand you half of my money?"

"Mrs, pardon me, I mean Ana. Perhaps we can hash out another avenue that will not be so drastic. Mrs. Darlington, have you advised your client over this request?" Kirkland asks swiftly.

"Mr. Kirkland, what sort of question is that? Who do you suppose drew up the contract for our client? Captain Kangaroo?"

Kirkland's cheeks redden now that Bee has ruffled his feathers.

"Then I will speak freely. That so called demand your client just made is ludicrous and any prudent attorney would have advised her so." He rudely spits at her.

Bee transforms herself into something between The Wicked Witch of the West and Pinhead. I am even afraid of her.

"Yes, let us all speak freely, Kirkland. Let me remind you and your client how ludicrous he was in marrying without having an airtight pre-nup. Let me also remind you that you were his counsel when he married my client in 2012, and obviously, you were not very prudent with the legal advice you gave him then. I will also remind you, along with Mr. Grey, that had he wanted to protect every nickel of his empire, he would have kept his dick in his pants. We can knock heads with Grey for however long you like, he can refuse to sign shit, and you can all walk out of this building right now. But you know as well as I do, that it will be a matter of weeks before we are all facing one another in a courtroom and Ms. Kendall and I will present a hell of a lot of interesting shit to show a judge."

"Bee, you forgot to remind them that Mr. Grey could also have to answer to another judge concerning Hillary Declan's affidavit and her accusation of being physically assaulted by him." Allison throws in.

The room feels as uncomfortable as a whore in church must feel.

Christian was already pale as the driven snow, although he turned as white as a corpse at Allison's ominous words. He has turned in his seat and looking at his lawyer's.

"Is this bullshit? They cannot really present that shit in a courtroom can they? One of you had better start telling me what I want to hear before I kick both of you dumb mother fuckers in the street."

Mr. Faulk looks completely disgusted with his client. Then again, who isn't?

"No, Mr. Grey. None of this is bullshit, and yes, everything that we have had the unfortunate opportunity to learn today, can be presented to a judge. My esteemed colleague can have your wife file for divorce on grounds of adultery and has more than enough evidence to back that claim up. The position that you are currently in is the most favorable since you and your wife have decided to privately settle you divorce, as well as the fact that your wife filed for divorce claiming irreconcilable differences. Your mutual agreement of placing a gag order on the terms of the settlement is also in your favor," Faulk tells him. "If you cannot reach an agreement while handling the divorce amicably and privately, you can take your chances and go to court and a judge might not be so kind to give the proceedings a gag order. I have no need to tell you that would mean the proceedings would become public knowledge, along with any and all evidence provided by you or your wife."

We all watch as Christian stands up, and scrubs his face furiously. He is surrounded by Taylor, Luke, and Tom and has nowhere to go. He is loudly repeating a word that I do not make out and I will not be surprised if he starts to stomp his little feet. He literally scratches his fingers down his face and looks me directly in my face.

"Anastasia, there is another solution here and you do not have to handle this situation as you are. Take two seconds to reconsider this insane notion and we can figure something out." He says.

I would almost say that I see helplessness in the depths of those gray eyes and outright pleading in every one of his words. Nevertheless, I will also say that he is pulling the placate Ana card out of his ass and trying to fool me. The days of fooling me ended months ago.

"No."

"No?" He repeats.

"I could say fuck no, or even hell no. The answer is still no. No, I will not reconsider jack shit. We both know what a shrewd manipulator that you are. You do not need your beacons of legality to spell this out for you. I know how your mind works, Christian. You have been expecting the worst since I explained the orange salad dressing on a fucking white blouse. Quit pretending to be shocked. We were in this room together and we both watched what I kept stacking on your back. I am not backing down and so you can throw the dice and take your chances in a courtroom for all I care. So YOU take two seconds to weigh your options." I evenly and softly tell him while looking directly in his eyes.

Those eyes have widened and Christian places his palms down on the table, however, we are still staring one another. He is either speechless from actual shock or from mentally planning a counter offensive. Christian is a brilliant man. He understands there is not one.

"You are fucking serious aren't you?" He breathes.

Silently, I shrug my shoulders and confidently push a folder toward him in one fluid movement.

Christian's head drops and he begins to read the folder I opened for him. A speed-reader, he is through the first paragraph in seconds, raises his head, and looks around the room. Maybe he is looking for divine intervention. Although, I seriously doubt that the Lord will be swooping down from heaven to help Christian out of anything.

"It must be driving you mad that you know you have zero control over this." I say.

Christian remains mute and I am positive that he did not even hear what I just said. And to think that I am not even finished with him yet.

"Mr. Grey!" Bee says in a loud voice, tapping the end of her pen on the table impatiently. "What is your decision?"

Bee snaps Christian from whatever universe he had entered. They glare at one another.

"Mrs. Darlington, you ask that question as if I have a choice." He replies quietly, although I hear the anger that is burning underneath that deceptive quiet and calm tone.

"Then sign the settlement agreement." She replies.

Christian is once again holding the Mont Blanc pen I bought him during the time I was stupid and thought how sweet it would be to buy my loving husband an unexpected gift on a whim. I am not sure if Christian using that pen to sign over half of his fortune to me means anything or not.

His hand hovers over the line where his signature goes and I see when his eyes catch that I have already signed the document. Yes, fucker. I had no doubts how this would end. Christian looks at me with pure hatred that I know is pumping from where his absent heart should be. I may have had an epiphany standing in this room when I realized that I had intellectually accepted having my soul torn out, but had not in the deepest crevice in my heart, but after feeling and witnessing firsthand how much Christian actually hates me, I would not have needed that epiphany. He is more than driving that point home.

Christian scrawls his signature along the dotted line, using so much force I cannot see how the pen did not rip through the paper. Without the need of being told to do so, he flips the page up and signed the copy meant for his counsel. Christian shoves the folder halfway down the table and throws his pen along with it. He has one hand on his forehead, the other on his hip, and is back to muttering to himself.

I am too interested in watching Christian flail around without a stitch of control to pay attention to what Bee and Allison are talking about with the suits. A man such as Christian should be locked away and analyzed. How does someone become so dependent on controlling every aspect of their life that they mentally lose it whenever that precious control is taken? Is this the out of control fifteen-year-old boy that Elena Lincoln molested for six years? Six goddamn years. Well, it was no longer molestation once Christian turned eighteen, although it was still fucking sick. I suppose sick may breed sick. However, I think it is fitting to describe those two as evil breeding evil.

Jason must be the Christian whisperer since I watch him mutter something to him and Christian takes his seat and a long gulp of the bottled water beside him. I look at Taylor in disgust and shake my head.

"Really, Jason? You truly are pathetic." I say bitterly.

My attention of the Jason and Christian show is interrupted by the voice of Bee Darlington.

"This matter has been settled and is formally included in the divorce. Please, proceed, Ana."

"Mr. Faulk, can you pass Christian his pen back? When he hurled it down the table it landed right beside you."

"Certainly, Ana." Faulk replies kindly, although he cannot bring himself to look at me.

Christian begrudgingly yanks the pen from Faulk's proffered hand and then resumes glaring at me. I would actually say his expression is more of a murderous hatred rather than a glare; but his looks do not intimidate me anymore. To me, Christian Grey is mentally unbalanced and fucking pathetic. If anything, when he looks at me, all that I feel is pity.

"Christian, it is plain to see this next folder is considerably thicker than the previous one. There are several more pages for you to sign and they have all been marked for you as well." I explain to him.

"Mrs. Darlington, may I ask what your client is requesting now?" Kirkland asks, his concern evident, although his words are still heavily laden with disdain.

"Mrs. Darlington isn't the only attorney representing Ana. I can answer that question quite simply, the answer is no. They are hammering out their own settlement, and once they are finished, the four of us will take it from there. Does that answer suffice, Mr. Kirkland?" Allison asks, sounding like an utter bitch.

"Well, I suppose it will have to, Ms. Kendall." Kirkland replies haughtily.

The only pair of eyes that have not settled on my slight frame belong to Allison and Bee. The soul suckers eyes are using the Bat Signal to let me know that he is planning my murder, and his suits are looking at me apprehensively. Luke and Tom, who remain on either side of Christian, are using their eyes to tell me to remain strong, and conveying they will keep me safe once I open my mouth. The pair of eyes, those of Jason Taylor, are looking at me cautiously and he has already moved closer to the back of Christian's chair. He senses that he is going to have to grab him, and grab him quickly.

"Are the two of you done, Allison? If so, I can continue."

"We are, Ana. Go ahead."

I look very closely at the son of a bitch in front of me and take in every repellant feature about him. Every feature he hides behind his beautiful face that he uses to manipulate people with. I no longer give a fuck about the reasons why Christian is Christian. I no longer give a fuck to try to lead Christian away from his detestable behavior and ghastly choices. He is useless. Worthless. As he told me earlier, he knows he is only good for making money and beating whores. I feel my blood bubble with a slight bit of sympathy for him. Maybe he would have died or ended up in prison without Elena's so called help. It would have saved so many from suffering. It would have saved Christian from suffering.

However, the longer I stare at him that bit of sympathy vanishes when my head is once again filled with the voice of Hillary Declan and the sounds of my husband fucking and beating Haley Sams. Suddenly, I can see that Christian's belief that without Elena's bullshit help, that he would be dead is not really such a bad thing to believe. It is a shame Christian that is not dead. His body should be as dead as his heart, mind, and soul. He already lives in the prison that is his own mind and he deserves to. That prison is Christian's very own pool of hell and one that he refuses to attempt to swim out of. Christian enjoys his personal hell so much that he tried his best to drown me in it and did so without an ounce of shame.

I have been baptized in the ways of Christian Grey, and feel no shame or anticipate feeling any remorse, once I open up the folder.

Without preamble, I nuke his entire world.

"You are going to give me fifty-one-percent of GEH, Christian. Which as you already fucking know, means that I will own it." I say dryly.

Before I am even able to take my next breath, Christian is wrapped in three pairs of muscular and powerful arms. My flat affect stays in place and I watch with empty eyes as he unsuccessfully struggles against Taylor, Luke, and Tom, in what seems like a war that goes on for ages.

"You should call your security, ladies." Faulk says, practically vomiting on his own panic.

"Ana?" Allison calls out loudly, trying to be heard since the room is encompassed with the roaring barrage of profanities Christian is hurling at me.

"That won't be necessary, Ms. Kendall." Luke says, at the very moment he wraps Christian into a chokehold.

Now Christian cannot call me a bitch, cunt, or slut. On the other hand, Christian cannot breathe so easily either. Luke does not even attempt to hide how much he is enjoying that he is finally inflicting bodily harm on his former boss.

Oh, fuck.

"You are going to mother fucking kill him, Sawyer, "Taylor yells, as he does his best to extricate his employer from Luke's arms that must be stronger than the Jaws of Life. "Goddamn, Luke! Let him go! Do you think I will let him hurt Ana?"

Luke's eyes dart to Taylor and are full of vehement and violent hatred. He never loosens the death grip he has on Christian.

"You son of a bitch! You have been hurting Ana for fucking years!" His roaring voice tears through the room. "Shut your fucking mouth before I do it for you!"

"Let up, man! You are choking him out, Luke! Luke! Let the fuck up, Luke!" Tom yells even louder as he joins Taylor's valiant attempt to save the life of his employer.

Luke is rapidly rendering Christian unconscious, although Taylor and Tom are trying in vain to physically take him to the floor.

Snapping out of my disassociated state, the serious ramifications of this newfound insanity hits me, and I jump to my feet.

"Luke!" I scream. "Let the bastard go!"

Luke looks in my imploring eyes that are begging him to stop and releases Christian instantly, causing Taylor and Tom to have to catch him before he crumples to the floor, gasping for breath and his face blood red. Kirkland and Faulk make haste as they rush to Christian with bottled water. Their horror at this circus is palpable and they are positively terrified of Lucas Sawyer.

Just as I am about to round the table and get to him, Luke shakes his head and points at my chair, indicating for me to sit back down. He snatches one of the bottles of water meant for Christian and nearly guzzles it all down at once.

"Gentlemen, since my law firm has been turned into a boxing ring, if someone does not bring Christian Grey under some sort of control, I will not bother with security. I will call the police and have his sorry ass arrested," Bee says. "I cannot believe this man was raised by Carrick Grey and behaves like a rabid animal!"

"Ma'am, please give Mr. Grey a moment to collect himself. I give you my word that there is no need for police intervention." Taylor replies.

Yeah, Jason. Protect your boss to the very end.

Floating around my surroundings, I am not processing anything that is going on around me. I can hear as the chaos gradually erodes, I can see the suits flabbergasted expressions, and Taylor talking Christian off the ledge of insanity. Kneeling before his boss who has practically melted into his chair, Taylor is holding onto Christian's shoulders. He is speaking freely and openly to him and I even hear Taylor ask Christian if he should go get Grace. Yes, Christian. Let him go get Grace instead of drowning in your loss of control. Let her help you, love you, and bring you out of your own head. Christian refuses.

I have no idea how much time passes until the suits quit the blustering, or Bee stops threatening Jason that she will not hesitate to call the police on his employer, or Allison removes her arm from where she had it wrapped around my shoulder, and when the raging anger vanished from Tom and Luke's faces. It is only when I am startled back into my body by the surprisingly soft murmurings of both Bee and Allison, who keep repeating my name, that I realize it appears the room has rewound itself and I am once again facing Christian, who has somewhat gathered his composure and is facing me once again. However it happened, whoever threw his mind back into his body, is unclear to me. Yet, here he is again, staring at me, blankly, pale, and knowingly defeated.

Do I have the self-control to keep from faltering at this point? Does Christian Grey have the self-control from faltering with any decision or choice in his world? They are the same question with two different answers. Staring at him with the same type of flat affect that I have numbed myself to possess, I inhale my inner, yet unwanted, CEO, and mold my mind with his. The tragic confusion on Christian's face matches his glazed over and haunted eyes perfectly. It is looking into a mirror and seeing how I have looked and felt since an exceptionally beautiful day in April. Does he deserve to feel this? Does he deserve to feel the way that he will once I push him further? Do I deserve to feel the way that I do right now? Did I deserve to be made to feel the way I have since laying my eyes on that little red Audi? Another set of similar questions with two different answers.

"You're really going to do this?" Christian asks in a strained voice and gazing at some faraway place over my head.

I take so much time before I answer him that I feel the tension of everyone in the room land squarely onto my shoulders.

"Yes, Christian. I really am." I reply my voice has been vanquished of emotion.

Christian looks and feels like Ana. Ana looks and behaves like Christian.

Karma.

"Listen, I know what I am and what I did…" He says, finally looking at me.

I raise my hand to stop him.

"The time for explaining what you believe that you are has long since passed. Your attempts to excuse what you did flew out of the window with the number of fucks that I no longer give. In fact, there should have never been a time for stuttering excuses for your behavior at all. You knew from day one what you wanted and those supposed needs you claim that you cannot live without. You chose to suck me into your life anyway, Christian. So here I am. I am where you placed me. I am ingrained into your life and will not be cast away so easily. You see, Christian, I am not a contract that you can simply choose to terminate at will."

"You cannot do this, Anastasia. Take every fucking cent I have. But do not do this."

"I can do this, Christian. In your wedding vows, you pledged that what was yours was now mine. It isn't my fault that you didn't mean it, although it is your fault that I believed it." I reply.

Christian is maintaining his composure surprisingly well, although he continues tearing at his beautiful copper waves. Christian Grey and all of his power and control have been hit head on by a train and he knows it.

"What can I fucking do, Anastasia? Please, tell me what I can fucking do?" He asks, sounding desperate.

I audibly gasp. Christian Grey just said please. Christian Grey is practically begging.

"You can fucking sign the papers. Not in five minutes or in thirty minutes, Mr. Grey. Now."

His gaping shock over my lack of emotion or a drop of feelings is blatantly evident. I am no longer the Ana he knew. The Ana he fucked over.

I take my time in pushing everything he needs to get this over with. Christian looks at it with abject terror that is mixed with impending anger.

"Pick up the pen and sign it, Christian. If you do not, then either Tom or Luke will send a text message to a brilliant IT man I employ now, and those playroom recordings will be on the Internet within seconds. Your snake in the grass Barney will not even be able to remove them. Do not forget what I gave you earlier when we alone. I told you those were copies and I promise they will fall into the hands of some hungry journalist. I am not fucking around with you, Christian and if you mistakenly ignore that, then you will light the fuse to the bomb that will destroy your life."

"Goddamn you, Anastasia!" Christian yells, pounding his fists on the table.

His sudden outburst does not make me flinch in the slightest. I look past Christian and dispassionately stare at Luke, who has his phone in his hand. I glance over to Taylor who is looking at me with sympathetic eyes. I am too numb to wonder why or to even give a fuck.

Christian whips around to face Kirkland and Faulk as if to offer him a hand to keep him from drowning in his self-made ocean of powerlessness.

"Can she?" He spits, each word dripping acid tinged desperation.

Kirkland remains stoically silent, and Faulk, who stares at Christian with a newfound sense of disgust, merely nods.

Christian is covering his face with his hands and with a disinterested thought, I wonder if he is hiding an emotion instead of his inability to cope with being stripped of all control.

"Christian." I say.

He removes his hands and looks at me with disdain.

"You will pay for this, Anastasia. From the moment you walk out of this building until your dying day, you will pay for this." He quietly threatens me.

I just slightly shake my head and point at the pen.

"No, I won't."

With a tremulous hand, whether it is from his raging anger or pure desperation, Christian takes the pen I bought on a whimsy, and signs his name, giving me ownership of Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc. His baby. His dream. His long and uphill battle to success. His kingdom. His multi-billion dollar empire.

Faulk reluctantly removes the documents from Christian's grasp, takes a seat, and begins to peruse through them. While the suits communicate with legal jargon, I cross my arms and rest them on the table. Christian is staring at me as though I am a loathsome piece of filth.

"I am going to destroy you, Anastasia. I am going to destroy you slowly and painfully. I am going to torture you until you are begging me to…" Christian begins to say through gritted teeth.

Now my numb and emotionless mind is allowed to fall into a far away recess and I allow myself to feel the power to twist the knife a bit harder.

I laugh bitterly at him, eyes dancing with mirth, and set the stage to pour down more pain.

"Shut the fuck up, Christian. You aren't going to do shit and your bullshit threats do not frighten me." I say. "But let me tell you a thing or two over what will be happening shortly."

"Don't be too confident, Anastasia. You have just fucked with the wrong man and you goddamn know it. Remember these words, I am going to rip you apart limb by limb, Anastasia. It is now my life's sole mission. I will fucking ruin you and I will let you watch Ray suffer with whatever I decide to do to him. It is a shame that your mother is a worthless bitch that let her boyfriend fuck her ten-year-old kid. If she wasn't already worthless scum she would be once I was finished with her." He says coldly, viciously.

He is now mirroring the way I am resting on the table. His words fly over my head and around my body. They mean shit to me. What he says about Carla does not affect me the way he is affected when his whore mother is mentioned.

I slowly clap my hands at him.

"That was a beautiful soliloquy, Christian. You sure can speak big words for a four-year-old parading in the body of a grown man. Your attempt to hurt me by throwing Carla and my molestation as a child up does not bother me anymore. Since I am a rational human being and knew that it was time to get help in dealing with my problems over my past, I sought help and it fucking works. Whereas you, Christian, still cry in your sleep because you smell your mothers rotting corpse and vividly watch the skin on her whore ass turn from blue to putrid green. I do not even have to bring up when her pimp finally returned and beat the ever-loving fuck out of you. Therefore, you can take those words home with you and think about them in the darkness of your bedroom. The freaks always come out at night, don't they?"

My words hit their mark, and I watch as his determination wipes away the emotions they brought up, and he puts back on his ferocious expression. The long ago sins of Christian's mother still burn him with white-hot fire and I have no hesitation to stoke that fire. He swallows hard, grabs another bottle of water, and takes a large drink.

"Allow me to return to what I was going inform you of. You should be aware of the upcoming changes concerning GEH. And don't interrupt me or I might get angry and tell Luke to send that text message that will light the Internet on fire," I softly say. "I am going to take your private company and make it public. I am going to hire a board of executives, and then investors are going to be able to buy shares of GEH. I will keep you on and call you the President of GEH just to appease your ego, although by then you will have already lost your mind and will be in a padded room. How much of a fucking nightmare is that going to be, Christian? Only it will be the sort of nightmare that you cannot wake up from."

I watch as Christian deflates and falls back into his chair. He is looking at me as if I have grown two heads, along with contemplating a multitude of ways to end my life. I smile at him. It is a huge and genuine smile.

"You wouldn't…" He breathes.

"Yes, I would and I will. Do not start whimpering over it. You still have billions of dollars and you will have another multi-billion dollar company in no time. You see, Christian, I am going to finish doing to you what you did to me. I am going to dismantle you in the same fashion you acquire companies and callously dismantle them. You dismantled me in the same manner, didn't you? So I feel the need the reciprocate. You were methodical in the way you went about trying to acquire me. Because that is what you set out to do, acquire me like I was a company. I know that you did a background check on me the day we met at the Fairmont. I cannot prove it, but I have no doubt that you intentionally invited me to the opening of The Mile High Club. I would bet my right arm that when I literally ran into your goons as I headed downstairs to the club, it

was no coincidence. Your love of CCTV makes me almost certain that you were watching me the entire night and set up running into me. Want to cleanse your sinful soul and admit that, Christian?"

"Fuck you, Anastasia." He sneers, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs.

"I'll take that as your admission. You stalked me until you had me where you wanted me and then began to break me into pieces as you do to those companies you rip away from their owners. Day by day, and year by year, you made your plans and went about breaking me down and tearing me apart. I would guess that even today, you have sat in that chair and imagined how hurt I was when I found out my life was a comic book and have enjoyed imagining my pain. Well, you can look at me now and know that I am imagining how you feel and that I am enjoying the mother fucking shit out of it." I say, doing my best to sound bored.

"The only thing you should be imagining is what I am picturing doing to your body and every blow that I bring down on you." He hisses.

Laughing at him, I lean back in my chair.

"Dream on, Christian Grey. It will never be my body. You will be the one trapped in the pathetic cycle of hunting down Ana look a likes to beat the fuck out of. You are the sad little boy trapped on a treadmill that is your past. Christian, you will do nothing other than be a lonely and closed up shell of a person who is going to die without ever knowing what happiness or love feels like. You say you do not want what you refer to as normal, and perhaps you do not. However, if there is a little spark within you that does, know you will never experience it. I hope that you live until you are back to shitting in diapers and never experience a loving or positive feeling. I hope your dying thought is what a waste of skin and bones you were and how your life passed you by and that no one will give a fuck that you are burning in hell."

Christian blinks rapidly and the mask on his face slips a fraction, although he hides behind it again quickly before anyone other than me can catch it.

He does not reply.

"You have nothing. You have the billions you need to build yourself back up, but other than that you are empty and you can thank me for it. I have spent months silently dismantling you and your life the same way that you did mine. I have methodically planned and plotted everything that has led the two of us where we are at right now. I am the reason that you and your security idiots ran around in circles looking like fucking idiots. My God, how Kate and I laughed at the lot of you when Luke would describe each of you turning in circles like dogs chasing their own tails. I played and manipulated you until I have taken every bit of control you have ever had or ever felt. You have about as much control as that kid with his filthy blanket did," I barely say as I begin to laugh. "Shit, that little boy from Detroit actually had it better than the big billionaire from Seattle does. Do you want to know why? That little boy from Detroit was rescued and saved by an angel by the name of Grace Trevelyan-Grey. However, the big bad billionaire cannot be rescued. There is not an angel that is going to drop from heaven and try to heal you with love. Are you interested in knowing why that is? It is because you are like Dorian Gray and made a pact with the devil. You enjoy living in the dark along with the demon's you hold so dear, and that is why a pure and loving angel will never, ever rescue you again."

When I cannot get him to even open his mouth to threaten me, I realize it is time to wrap this up. I have to press on though. I must press on so that I can finish this and he has been decimated and this can all end.

"You have lost your precious empire and your prized control. I have rendered you impotent. There is nothing that you can do to change any of this, and you know it. Tell me one positive thing about your life, Christian. However, you cannot, can you? You have no concept of love, giving it or feeling it. You will never be happy nor will you ever bring anyone happiness. You will continue to exist in custom-made suits and live in the most expensive penthouse in Seattle and Jason will enable your sickness. The only thing you have is a shit load of damning proof that will be hanging over your head for the rest of your life. I am leaving you a very thin tightrope to walk on, Christian. Do not become complacent or think that I no longer have you exactly where I want you. Take that into account if you ever consider pissing me off in the future." I say.

Those beautiful gray orbs are empty. It is over with and I have no further reason to carry on. I give it a moment to marinate before going forward. Once again, the silence around us is deafening and the only people in the room who have the heart to look in our direction are Bee and Allison. Luke and Tom have even torn their eyes from the emasculated Christian Grey.

"Ladies, are we ready for our clients to sign the divorce papers? It appears your client is finished here." Kirkland asks.

"Are you ready to do this now, Ana?" Allison asks.

"Yeah, I am. I think he's had enough."

I flip open yet another folder that I once again slide to Christian.

"Jason, snap your fingers in front of that assholes face and bring him back to reality," I say. "Christian! Pay fucking attention and read the goddamn document and then fucking sign it."

Christian's eyes are still vacant, although he cautiously begins to read the document before him. He scans the paper quickly and his eyes shoot to mine in shock. It is obvious Christian is still reeling from the trauma I just inflicted upon him, as he still has no voice.

"Did you really think I would do that, Christian?"

I note that Bee and Allison are handing the same document to the suits. After reading it, both of the men gape at me.

"Christian!" I yell and snap my fingers at him.

"Do you expect me to thank you?" He asks his words are hollow.

"No, not at all, Christian. You are too much of a bastard to do that, although I know you are probably feeling something strange, and that feeling is what a normal person refers to as gratitude."

"Gratitude?" He replies, smirking at me.

It appears that the soul sucker has re entered his body and is back to being his asshole self. I roll my eyes at the cocky fucking idiot who is so egotistical that he refuses to thank me.

"I could explain what the word gratitude means but I won't waste my breath. Just sign the damn paper and then we can sign the divorce papers and be done with one another."

"Why did you do this?" Christian asks.

"Because I could. Are you going to sign it or sit here and play twenty questions? Frankly, I have spent more than enough time in the same room with you and I want to leave."

Christian looks at his suits in his normal hostile fashion. The Christian Grey is back amongst the living.

"Did you read through this? Is this binding or some bullshit trick?" He barks.

"It is binding and all legal. I read the entire document and it voided everything in the previous one you signed and you are still the sole owner and CEO of GEH." Faulk replies.

Christian returns his glare back to me and narrows his eyes.

"So you just fucked with me, Anastasia? You fucking force me into giving you my company and get off as you describe how you are going to sell it off. If you think my promise of bringing you down is voided like that previous bogus document you are sadly mistaken." He snarls at me.

His inability to recall that he is still sitting in a pile of his own shit amuses me and I cannot stop myself from smiling at him.

"Christian, Christian, Christian. Do you keep forgetting or do you just refuse to believe that I will not plaster those recordings to every sick BDSM and porn website out there? Do you really believe that Hillary Wilkins Declan will not actually file that affidavit against you? Because I will in a heartbeat and she will as well. Your promises and threats are a joke and you know it. You know that you do not have a peg leg to stand on and the first whisper that I hear of you trying to do shit to me or anyone that I love will be a day you will never recover from. That, Christian is a promise."

"You must really be proud of yourself, Anastasia. I am glad to see that I introduced you to what having unlimited money can buy you."

"Oh, I am proud as fuck at myself, although it isn't because of money. Once again, I could not give a flying fuck that I married a billionaire. I would rather be the wife of a garbage man and have less than a grand in the bank than have wasted my time with you!" I snap loudly. "But I am going to explain to you why I am proud of myself Christian, and once you think about it, and realize it is the truth, you are going to hate yourself more than you already do. Do you want to hear it?"

Christian remains fucked up enough to sit there staring at me smugly with a smirk on his lips.

"Why not? Be my guest and bore me to death." He says sarcastically.

"You know how long and how hard you desperately tried to break me and make me your submissive? Do you remember how much time and effort you took as you tried to turn me into what you wanted? Can you recall how you did everything you could to exploit those few things you introduced me to that I enjoyed, and thought that by doing so I would eventually let you beat me? How many days, weeks, months, and fucking years did you try to exert total control over me, yet you never could," I say, smiling broadly at him. "You tried every trick in the book to do….Oh, how did you describe it? Oh, yes. You described it as bringing me to heel. You admitted that making a fool out of me was bringing me to heel and was punishing me, although we both know that is bullshit. These past few years have been nothing more than a waste of your time as you tried to get me to submit to you and do whatever it is you wanted. You could not find a way to punish me, so you had to look elsewhere and pretend it was me that you were hurting. But it wasn't me, was it Christian?"

He is looking at me intently now and that smirk has disappeared. Maybe he can see where I am going with this.

"What I am pointing out to you is how ironic and downright hysterical it is how this all played out. You spent what, Christian? Over three years trying to bring me to heel, to submit to you, to punish me, and to force me to do whatever you said, and you failed completely. You never got what you wanted, did you? Sure, you hurt me and brought me to my knees when I found out our marriage was never jack shit. However, that isn't what you really wanted was it, Christian? Nope, you wanted me as your whipping post. You craved to force me to submit to you as your whores do. However, you never could do it. The Christian Grey failed miserably."

He runs a hand through his hair and scoffs sarcastically.

"That's your point, Anastasia? Am I supposed to give a fuck about that or even give a fuck about you? Because trust me, I do not."

"No, that is not my point, Christian. My point is that you had all of those years...All of that time to get what you wanted, and you did not have the capability to do so. You underestimated little Anastasia Rose Steele," I outright laugh at him. "The point that I am making is the fool I made out of you. You could not bring me to so- called heel, or make me submit to you in all of that time. Now, look around this room. We have been in here for way too many hours; but then again, it has only been HOURS. Christian, it has taken me HOURS to bring YOU to heel. I had you submit to me in HOURS. I punished you in HOURS. Hours, Christian. You have had to submit to my every demand or be severely punished for not doing so. I brought you to heel by taking away every bit of control you have. You had no control, did you Christian? What I find so funny is that you never will have your control back. How did it feel to know you were at someone else's mercy? I have sat here as your Master and tied you to a St. Andrews Cross and have done everything I wanted to do to you, and you have had to take it. The best part is that you will continue to submit to me because of what I have got on your ass. So sit back, and chew over that for a minute and obsess over your failure, as I know you do when things do not go your way. Because we all know nothing has gone your way this entire day nor will it in the future. You have been my little submissive today, Christian. You did not become my little whipping post by choice, although I still had the pleasure of watching you have to take every blow I handed out. Now THAT is the point I had to make."

"You are a fucking bitch, Anastasia! God, what I would fucking like to do to…"He snarls.

"Watch it, Grey. I told you to watch your filthy mouth when you spoke to Ana." Luke says quietly.

"Don't worry about it, Luke. He is full of hot air and has an empty soul. That is all that I need to know. Bee, I am beyond ready to end this marriage. Is everything in this last file ready to be signed?" I ask.

"Yes, my dear. Just go to the flagged pages, you can both sign it, and we can call this horrible day over."

Grabbing a pen, I quickly find where I am to sign my signature, and then pass it over to Christian.

"Have you read this? Do we have copies of this before I sign it?" He asks, addressing Kirkland and Faulk.

"Of course, Mr. Grey. It is cut and dry. The settlement Ana requested was already included in the document. There is no need to re draw the papers. You only have to sign them." Faulk answers him.

Christian's eyebrows furrow.

"The settlement? Are you referring to those fucking buildings she wants for some fucking reason?"

Both suits clear their throats and look horribly uncomfortable. They are waiting for the volcano to erupt.

"Yes, the properties she wanted; along with the cash settlement." Faulk responds.

Christian whips his head back to face me. Again, if looks could kill….

"That money wasn't re gifted or voided, or whatever the fuck they called it, along with GEH?" He roars so loudly that Kirkland's bastard ass flinches.

"No, Christian. I am keeping that money." I reply dully and shake my head no.

"You money hungry...I told you that you were spoiled to what I brought into your broke ass life! Now you prove it by taking away money that I earned through years of hard work! Doesn't that make you feel the slightest bit like a common whore?"

I raise my hand so Luke will shut his mouth that is half way open.

"Christian, you have no idea what that money is for. It might stuff my bank account or help me buy a villa at Lake Como in Italy. Then again, it might be for a completely different reason. And as I have said many times today, it is none of your concern." I hiss. "Trust me, Grey. That money does not compare in the least when it comes to what I have on you, everything that I am trigger happy to ruin you with. Go on and live your pathetically lonely life, but never stop looking over your shoulder when it comes to me. I own your ass, Christian. You are my bitch. If you believe there are not multiple copies of each sickening piece of shit that I have, then you are a goddamn idiot. Kate and Luke signed NDA's as well as I did, but I will be honest and admit that signing that piece of paper does not mean shit to me. I will gladly release those high def recordings on the Internet and have your fucked up ass sue me, and for the sole reason that the damage will already be done. In addition, even if all of your fucked up shit hits the fan, who says Hillary Declan will not be at the King County courthouse filing some serious and very public charges against you? You are not ever going to do shit to me, regardless if I rent a billboard with a picture of you using a cat on Haley Sams. Oh, and another thing Christian, you are aware of three people who signed those useless NDA's, although you do not know if there is anyone else who knows all about you and this fucked up shit, and that never signed anything. Even if I do not drop the other shoe, do not assume that there is someone else out there who will."

"What is that supposed to mean? Who else knows?" Christian demands. "Tell me!"

Shrugging my shoulders at him, I never answer him. I will let him ruminate on that idea for the rest of your life.

Seconds pass while the jerk off attempts to intimidate me with mean and scary looks, although I can see my words have left Christian unsettled. I am inwardly shaking my head at how asinine his threats have been and meet his gaze straight on. I use an index finger and gesture for him to wind this bullshit up.

Finally.

With the same raging force that he used to sign the previous document, Christian signs each required page and growls the entire time. Once he has signed his John Hancock, he slings the folder to his suits, who give the proper copies to Bee and Allison.

It is signed.

Done.

The long and relieving exhalation that I have needed since April.

In ninety days, it will be officially over.

Our dirty little joke will be dust in the Seattle wind.

I will finally be free.

Luke and Tom practically push Taylor out of the way, as they make their way to where I am still sitting. I take Tom's proffered hand as he politely helps me stand, and we make our way to Bee and Allison, who are filling me in on a few inconsequential details. Of course, Christian is across the room swearing and acting like the spoiled child that he is. I catch Luke shaking his head at him in disgust and then he walks over to Taylor.

"By the way, Jason, I know that you have been frustrated that you have been stuck in this room so long that you haven't had the opportunity to scramble Grey's security to tear apart his playroom. I know that you are salivating to get your hands on the shit that was planted right under your nose. I just want to say that you can spend all week ripping the walls down, although I will tell you to not waste your time. Everything has been removed and the entire place wiped clean. I just thought I would offer you some friendly advice. You and Grey should probably look into a better security measures." Luke tells him, wearing a huge and sarcastic grin on his handsome face, which then disappears, "What you did to Ana is unforgivable and I don't understand why you did it, Jason. Look at all of the people you helped Grey hurt. Shit, look at Gail and think of how you hurt and disappointed her. I will never understand any of it."

Luke shakes his head at a silent Jason Taylor, and then he strolls back to where are gathered, as Allison lets me know what to expect in the upcoming weeks. We all begin to make our way out of the room when I realize that I have left my purse behind. Reaching down to grab it, I stand back up and I find Christian staring at me. He is not looking at me maliciously. There are no daggers thrown from his eyes. His face wiped clean of his usual smug or impassive expression. Christian's gaze is one that puzzles and startles me at the same time. He does not appear to want to say anything to me. Through his anger, Christian almost appears lost. At first, I think he was simply staring into space and I just happened to walk into that space, but then it becomes apparent that he is studying me as I study him.

I have his destiny in my back pocket and I know that he is studying me to figure out how that came to be.

Bee and Allison have already left the room, followed by the suits. The only ones who remain are Christian and I, along with three hulking men who are probably itching for a reason to break out into a brawl. I can feel Luke and Tom are waiting for me to turn and around and exit the room.

I allow another moment to pass as I curiously look at my almost ex husband and his bitterly defeated behavior. Is this what it looks like when a sociopath mourns? Shouldn't Christian consider himself lucky? I could have easily acted upon my threats, yet all I wanted to do was watch him drop to his knees, legs apart, his forearms resting on those legs, and his head bowed down. I wanted Christian's complete submission and I received every drop of it.

As I had find myself studying Christian's face earlier, I do so again, and commit it to memory. I never want to forget how one may look like an angel and really be the spawn of Satan. However, is that what Christian is or simply as I see him? I shake my head and turn to make my way to the door that Tom is holding open for me.

It is then, while taking those few steps toward Tom's smiling face, that my mind suddenly becomes a kaleidoscope of vivid and color images.

I am lying on the sofa in Christian's office in The Mile High Club with a sprained ankle. Shy, yet excited by the attention The Christian Grey was paying to me.

Flirting and my genuine laughter while Skyping with one another before my first night at Escala.

Cloudless skies and warm days spent on The Grace.

Listening to Christian confide in me about his life and telling me how I led him into a place of light.

A beautiful Christian on a bended knee with a ring in hand.

That magical and blissful wedding on a glorious May afternoon.

Each kiss.

Touch.

Every I love you.

The devastating knowledge that it was only real to me.

That Christian never loved me.

I was surrounded by lies and betrayals.

It was all fake.

Every second of it was a delusion.

I was an ignorant fool.

Suddenly coming to a halt just as I am about to step through the door, I turn and look back into the room.

Jason is waiting for Christian, who is fixing his tie, putting his suit jacket back on, and attempting to smooth the wrinkles from it.

"Christian." I say.

Both men immediately look at me. The expression of confusion and loss on Christian's face is no longer there and he impassively returns my gaze.

"Once upon a time ago, I loved you irrevocably…..But now when I look at you I see a very see sad man with a lost and twisted soul, forever adrift at sea."

With that, I turn around, exit the room, and hear the soft click of the door closing, as I leave my past with Christian Grey behind me.

**********The End**********


	28. A note from Anna

_**Just a Note**_

_I have been asked why I have not addressed the reviews for these last three chapters the way that I have throughout the story. The reason that I am not doing so is because I am a member of Cheatward's Spot, a group on Facebook, &amp; they asked me to have a discussion and Q&amp;A about the story once the epilogues are complete and posted here. I think that will be an excellent way for me to answer each question that any reader may have. I realize that a lot of you are not a member of Cheatward's Spot, or even fans of a story about cheating, but even if you are not, the group is loaded with wonderful Fanfiction writers who are also great women. If you would like to take part in the discussion and Q&amp;A, all you have to do is request to join the group and the lovely women who moderate the group will accept your request immediately. Again, the discussion will not happen until the two epilogues are posted. I have already started writing one of them and my hope is that they will be complete by next weekend, although I am having a medical procedure on Nov. 18__th__ that could put a kink in completing them and having them up by next weekend. Once again, I am going to have a discussion and Q&amp;A on the Facebook group Cheatward's Spot after the story is over. For those of you that are interested in taking part in it, I will post another note and let you know when the groups moderators decide to have it. I have not had time to read every review yet, although the ones that I have read and the PM's I have received have humbled me. I honestly cannot thank you all enough. Please know that I truly appreciate your kind words and every reader who enjoyed it, along with understanding why I wrote the story the way that I did. _

_Again, you all rock and I am grateful that this story has had so many loyal readers from the very beginning. _

_Thank you._

_Anna_


	29. Addendum to Just a Note

_**Addendum to Just a Note** _

_I was just going to write this in a review, although I do not know who goes back to read the reviews and knew this would be the best way to respond to something that has seriously pissed me off, which is a really, really, hard thing to do. It is only ingrained manners that I am not calling out which snarky or insulting guest reviews that I have received for accepting a flattering offer to discuss this story. For those genuinely nice and logged in readers who told me that they do not have a Facebook account, I will do a Q&amp;A for the story over here. I am more than happy to do this, but I am not doing so in order to accommodate a reader who left a nasty guest review or insulted what I consider a thoughtful offer by a group on another website, and then insulted that group, along with being rude and personally insulting to me as well. When a guest reviewer writes such things, they should ask themselves if they have the nerve to say those same words to my face. Here on Fanfiction, I will begin to answer questions in the reviews the day after I post the second epilogue. I will not answer a question from a reader who is not logged in. I feel bad for each reader who does not have a Facebook account since the group that I am "pimping out" is also having a discussion over the story, along with kindly asking me to answer any question a reader may have. I am not implying the story is wonderful or that my writing is so special that they want to discuss it, I am only saying that I personally believe that will be more interesting. I also have to point out that if you do not want to be a member of a certain group on Facebook for reasons X, Y, or Z, it is not impossible to join a group in order to take part in a discussion and then leave the group afterward._

_Anna_

_I have been asked why I have not addressed the reviews for these last three chapters the way that I have throughout the story. The reason that I am not doing so is because I am a member of Cheatward's Spot, a group on Facebook, &amp; they asked me to have a discussion and Q&amp;A about the story once the epilogues are complete and posted here. I think that will be an excellent way for me to answer each question that any reader may have. I realize that a lot of you are not a member of Cheatward's Spot, or even fans of a story about cheating, but even if you are not, the group is loaded with wonderful Fanfiction writers who are also great women. If you would like to take part in the discussion and Q&amp;A, all you have to do is request to join the group and the lovely women who moderate the group will accept your request immediately. Again, the discussion will not happen until the two epilogues are posted. I have already started writing one of them and my hope is that they will be complete by next weekend, although I am having a medical procedure on Nov. 18__th__ that could put a kink in completing them and having them up by next weekend. Once again, I am going to have a discussion and Q&amp;A on the Facebook group Cheatward's Spot after the story is over. For those of you that are interested in taking part in it, I will post another note and let you know when the groups moderators decide to have it. I have not had time to read every review yet, although the ones that I have read and the PM's I have received have humbled me. I honestly cannot thank you all enough. Please know that I truly appreciate your kind words and every reader who enjoyed it, along with understanding why I wrote the story the way that I did. _

_Again, you all rock and I am grateful that this story has had so many loyal readers from the very beginning. _

_Thank you._

_Anna_


	30. Christian

All rights to the characters and story of FSoG belong to E. L. James

Every stupid mistake belongs to me.

_Christian_

_June 2019_

"Christian, are you going to continue staring out the window or are you going to answer the question?"

"What I want to know is why you are even asking me that question. That was four fucking years ago and I don't see its relevance in fixing my fucked up head." I snap at Dr. Antoni Klein.

Klein has been the same live in psychologist that I have been assigned each time I have spent a goddamn fortune on for a four-month stay at The Kusnacht Practice. My first treatment here was a waste of time, my second stay brought about several miraculous breakthroughs, but two years after that second long term stay here, I am still not where I want to be. I have tread through a lot of shit and I am nowhere near as fucked up as I once was, but there is still a whisper in the back of my mind. It is a nagging feeling that I cannot pinpoint or seem to erase. So once again, I am over looking Zurich, Switzerland while I peel away more layers of what, why, and who I am. Maybe this third stay at The Kusnacht Practice will be my lucky charm.

The fact that I am Christian Grey means that I can pay more to stay at the worlds most luxurious and expensive rehabilitation center in the world in order to ensure that I am the only patient here. Even though the center only treats six patients at a time, I still cannot afford to be seen in some rehab, even if the chances are low since I am six-thousand miles from Seattle.

Dr. Klein softly chuckles at me and I turn to him in annoyance.

"Christian, I have been asking you that same question for the past four years and you have never answered it. You have been here for sixty-one days, and if you do not work through this, I assure you that your third visit here will not be your last," He says. "If you refuse to answer the question then tell me what you are afraid of that prevents you from doing so?"

I scoff at him and shake my head. Unbelievable.

"Afraid? I am not afraid of anything, Dr. Klein. That should be abundantly clear to you. After all, as my one and only psychologist who has ever resided with me here, you should already know that about me. I just do not see the point in discussing her."

"The point is that if you never verbalize these conflicted feelings that you still carry around over your ex wife, then you will never get past them and lose the guilt you have when it comes to her. As you said, it has been four years, Christian. How long after your divorce did your anger and supposed hatred for Anastasia morph into guilt?"

I momentarily close my eyes and exhale. I know that what the good doctor is saying is the truth but I just do not want to go back there or admit to him or to myself anything when it comes to Anastasia.

"Fuck, I cannot pin point the exact day I started to feel this way," I murmur. "But it was after I got her letter."

"That leads us back to my question. What was it that you were feeling? Was it regret or remorse? Did those strange feelings as you call them come in waves or did they continually linger in your mind?"

"In the beginning it was nothing more than sporadic guilt." I softly say.

"What did you feel guilty about? You have always said that you never truly loved her..."

"No, I have always said that I did love her when our relationship began, and once I returned to my previous lifestyle I came to believe that it was nothing more than a passing phase or some shit. Fuck, Klein! Even after I started trolling BDSM clubs, I still cared for Anastasia's well being and took care of her!"

Dr. Klein is shaking his head and waving a hand at me as he quietly chuckles. If I had not already learned how to control my explosive temper, he would be feeling my wrath. I sigh deeply.

"You cared for her welling, Christian? Are you lying to me or to yourself? You did not care for Anastasia's well being, and how many times have you been told that you should refer to your previous lifestyle as alternative sexual relationships that you were addicted to? You were addicted to them the same way an alcoholic is addicted to booze, Christian. You admitted that addiction during your stay here two years ago and I suggested you to stop calling it a lifestyle. When you say that, or more importantly tell yourself that, you give into those thoughts of shame and that your so-called lifestyle has to remain a secret. When you told your family about these contracted sexual relationships who believed it was an addiction and suggested that you seek treatment for it, along with the post traumatic stress due to your early childhood?"

"My mother did." I reply petulantly.

"When your mother told you she believed you were addicted to this behavior and found this treatment facility, did you scoff at her?"

"Dr. Klein, you already know that answer."

Rolling his eyes at me, Klein continues in his thick German accent and I walk back to the window looking down at Lake Zurich.

"Are you a sex addict, Christian? Is the sex you are addicted to BDSM?" He asks.

"Yes." I acquiesce.

"Then own that addiction and stop referring to it as a lifestyle. You learned to believe that term from the older Dominatrix who sexually molested you and introduced you into BDSM in a cruel and unhealthy way. The way you have described your version of BDSM is nothing close to the way an actual BDSM relationship is. You admit that you are a sex addict and you were sexually abused. You also admit that you contracted women for BDSM relationships that were cruel and sadistic. So stop trying to worm your way out your own admissions and saying that you lived a lifestyle. For God's sake, Christian, we treated and got through your PTSD during your last visit to our lovely establishment and you no longer suffer from night terrors. You have been celibate for two years now, which I think is unhealthy, although we will discuss that later. I think it is time to stop kicking yourself in the ass over being brainwashed by your mother's much older friend who led you into believing you needed to live a secret sexual lifestyle," He says emphatically. "Has your acceptance of being a sex addict left you? Is that why you are here again?"

"No."

"Are you only going to reply in monosyllables?"

"Jesus Christ! Yes, I know that I am a sex addict and that I was addicted to BDSM relationships that bordered on torture! What else can I say other than that, Dr. Klein?" I ask pulling at my hair. "If I had reverted to believing otherwise, I wouldn't pay tremendous amounts of money Skyping you from Seattle several times a damn week, now would I?"

"That's precisely what you needed to say, Christian. Before we get back to the topic of your former wife, I want you to explain why you have not been with a woman in two years. Surely, that is a tremendous strain on a man who has been sexually active since the age of fifteen. Can you explain that to me?"

Dr. Klein has joined me at the window as we both gaze at the beauty of Zurich. Just looking at the surroundings makes me feel calm and peaceful. They take away all of the stress of GEH and allow me to relax knowing that Ros is handling everything as it should be. Other than my family, Ros is the only one who knows the truth about me. I do not answer Dr. Klein right away.

"You know that it was hard in the beginning, although I eventually adapted. The reason I have not been with a woman comes down to the fact that I do not even know how to approach one properly. I do not have the faintest clue how to behave on a date with a woman and the idea of beginning a normal sexual relationship with one befuddles me," I sigh deeply and shrug my shoulders. "Even my brother, the self-proclaimed expert on women can't give me any pointers."

Remembering how many women Elliot has tried to set me up with makes me laugh aloud. Dr. Klein turns and stares at me as if I am an animal at the zoo. He obviously does not find any amusement in how funny I find that Christian Grey has gone without pussy for two years.

"There you go again, Christian. The term is not a normal sexual relationship. It is a healthy sexual relationship. It is a loving sexual experience if it is full of intimacy with someone who you have fallen in love with and are in a committed relationship with. I didn't ask why you haven't had a relationship, I simply asked you why you haven't had sex in two years," He replies. "The way to approach a woman is usually engaging in a conversation with one and whenever a woman tries to start one with you, you shouldn't run for the hills like you do. You approached Anastasia."

I shake my head and look down at my bare feet, attempting to block that unpleasant memory.

"No, Dr. Klein. I stalked Anastasia." I retort bitterly.

"True. But you did eventually have to make that first move and ask her out on a date, Christian."

"No, that is not what happened. I wore her down while I was around the world on a business trip. The so-called first move you are referring to was either during a Skype session or in one of my incessant emails. You cannot twist that fact to sound like I approached my former wife with a bouquet of roses and asked her out for dinner. I had one..."

"Yes, yes, Christian. You had an ulterior, devious, and under handed agenda. That is how you initially described your initial interactions with Anastasia. I have never disagreed with your description of how you went about approaching her; especially knowing what your true intentions were. Humor me and remind me why you pursued your former wife. Explain why you deviated from your previous modus operandi when it came to Anastasia since it was so drastic. You chose to pursue her, Christian. Tell me why." He asks, irritating the fuck out of me because he interrupted me.

"How many times have we discussed this topic?" I snap at him.

"Well, Mr. Grey, I am sure we couldn't count the number of times we have discussed this over the past years. I am sure that every one of those times has obviously not helped since you are here again and your unresolved issues concerning your ex wife are no doubt the reason why."

I feel a sudden and familiar feeling of anger rising within me and I close my eyes and count to twenty. After I remember how to distance myself from my old best friend, I open my eyes and turn to Dr. Klein.

"Which question do you want me to answer first, Dr. Klein? Why was Anastasia the first and only woman that I ever pursued, or what feelings propelled their way through the anger I had toward her? Which question is the most Important in our process of finally fixing Christian Grey?" I cannot keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"They both are and answer whichever one first." Klein replies, looking at me as though he is challenging me.

"Mother fucker! I pursued her because she was not into BDSM and I thought that I could make her my sub, and the goddamn feelings that I felt after our divorce were remorse. You now have your answers, Dr. Klein. I felt remorse once the rage abated and along the way, that remorse became a sticky source of guilt that I cannot rid myself of. Does that satisfy you?"

"No, it doesn't and I think we should both sit down. I have looked at this same view for the past twelve years and frankly I am sick of it." Klein says, making his way to one of the chairs.

Irritated by his incessant arguments over everything that I have told him, I sigh and make my way to a chair directly in front of him. Klein lifts an eyebrow as if he is waiting for my response, which I do not offer him. He blows out an exasperated breath.

"Remorse for what exactly?"

"Hell, I don't fucking know!" I yell in frustration.

"Bullshit, Christian. You know that I have read and studied the notes of your psychiatrist in Seattle, along with the psychiatrist here, and I am going to be blunt when I say that I have no idea why you are even here. You continue to make tremendous progress overcoming the adversities that you have had in your life under the treatment of Dr. Franklin in Seattle. I am also aware that you discuss your guilt over Anastasia quite frequently with both Dr. Franklin and our psychiatrist, Dr. Meyer. So explain to me why your biweekly sessions with Dr. Franklin have not been enough for you to have already worked through this, and you felt the need to return here and drop another million or so to go over the same shit that you have in Seattle." Dr. Klein's words are matter of fact, although I do not mistake the genuine curiosity within them.

"Fine. I thought that since I continue to feel this way despite my sessions with Franklin, that if I returned here I could finally resolve this shit. After all, it was the treatment I received here two years ago that finally broke down the barriers that I had built around myself, and I felt like being here once more could finally rid me of whatever it is that has been holding me back," I reply quietly. "I do not know or understand what the fuck is wrong with me, why I cannot force myself into a norm...a healthy relationship and why I am plagued with goddamn guilt whenever I hear the name Anastasia or those times that I saw her. You know that I no longer harbor anger or resentment toward her, and in fact, I am grateful for her and all of the things that she has done...for me. She did not have to do any of those things and I fucking well do not deserve any of them after the hell I put her through. Obviously, that is why I feel guilty. Anastasia has done a lot of selfless things when it comes to me and has never accepted anything from me in return."

"And you doubt that she will ever drop the anvil hanging over your head? Although, I believe that deep down you do not believe she will out you. You know what Anastasia is really like and that despite what you did to her, you feel that she will never follow through with her threats. You were, and still are, acutely aware of the person that your former wife is, and while you initially wanted to ruin her entire life, you very quickly became remorseful, and it was not just because of those feelings of anger and blame you harbored over her. You developed an alien and quite uncomfortable feeling of regret and it was born because you realized what you had done to Anastasia. You also realized the regret over what you could have had with Anastasia, did you not? You reflected on that very early, albeit short, period with your former wife and saw what you could have had and what your life could have been like. Please, do not insult me any longer by telling me you never loved that woman or that you believe it was a passing fancy. Am I wrong, Christian? He asks.

As they have for the past four years, Klein's opinions punch me in the gut and wind me. I lay my head back on the chair and stare at the ceiling. Did I love Anastasia and then give into my addiction of BDSM? How could I have ever truly loved the woman and behaved in such an abhorrent way that eventually nearly broke her? It is not hard for me to close my eyes and vividly recall the period of time that I struggled adapting to a healthy and loving relationship with Anastasia. Her presence did bring light into my life and gave me hope to love and be loved. Anastasia also brought me back into the arms of my family, although I did not believe I deserved the love they showered me with. Fuck! I wasted so much time when it came to my family and spent so many years stuck in a rut of deception, and threw away nearly twenty years of my life. Twenty years that I can never get back. However, was the light Anastasia introduced me to, and how she was the catalyst that led me back to my family enough to mean that I loved her? Did I fucking love her? I can close my eyes and remember looking into her crystal blue eyes and running my fingers through her soft wavy hair. Anastasia's body was always soft as silk and she always smelled like heaven. I can still hear her beautiful laugh and remember how her body reacted to my touch and how lovely her face was whenever she would come. Anastasia was witty, funny, gorgeous, and most of all, she was kind and loving.

How did I ever deny feeling this?

Raising my head, I find Dr. Klein looking at me blandly. I pinch the bridge of my nose before I answer him. However, if this is what is keeping me from moving on and losing the guilt that I carry, I need to say the words and get past this.

"No. No, Dr. Klein, you are not wrong. I did love her." I softly say.

He does not say anything for what seems like hours and my own words are finally registering within my heart.

"Well, that is a major step, Christian. You have recognized it and then you verbalized it. I believe it is pointless for us to beat our chests and offer up the reasons behind your terrible mistreatment of Anastasia. We already know the when, the what, and they why. Did you ever feel guilt during your marriage and how you treated her?"

"I have often thought that my anger towards Anastasia when I returned to BDSM could have been guilt and it manifested itself as rage. Dr. Franklin suggested that I think about why I wanted to hurt Anastasia, and turn it over and see if it was my own guilt. My guilt and shame over what I was doing behind my wife's back, along with how I was essentially abusing her," I tell him quietly. "I was once in Gstaad on a business trip and I hadn't laid eyes on Anastasia for a week, perhaps longer. She emailed me one night and instead of replying to her, I chose to email my submissive instead. Unforgivable." I shake my head knowing how disgusting that was.

"Hmmm…interesting, Christian. Do you recall why you chose your submissive over your wife? Do you remember if the two of you were fighting?" He asks and sounds genuinely intrigued.

"Fuck, Dr. Klein. That was nearly five years ago! I know that I was drowning my fucking feelings in alcohol until I was shit faced, and paced my hotel suite justifying my actions. I knew that I was becoming more reckless with my behavior and that Anastasia was going to find out the truth sooner than later. I remember excusing the fucked up shit that I was doing because I had given her Grey Publishing and that publishing was her passion. I told myself that Grey Publishing would be enough to get her through how she would feel once she found out about me." I irritably snap. "I spent a lot of time justifying my actions and making excuses to even have the heart to look at Anastasia. Jesus, I always blamed her for not saving me but then I realized what a goddamn hypocrite I really was. I never tried to save myself."

"When did you realize that you were a hypocrite?" Dr. Klein asks, staring at me with a raised eyebrow.

"After my parents pointed it out to me. It was shortly after I told my family everything and my mom and dad took me into my dad's study. They were hurt and angry, although they were both desperate to help me. It was not long after my divorce from Anastasia was final and mom was already in touch with this treatment facility. I had no qualms about confessing all of my sins and when my parents asked me why I had hurt Anastasia so much, I told them the same reason that I had been telling myself, along with what I told Anastasia," I say softly. "My father had to control himself from kicking my ass and my mom collapsed into tears and wept for an entire week. Nevertheless, they both told me that they loved me even though I was full of shit, a complete hypocrite, and had basically killed their beloved daughter-in-law. I knew that they were right, and it was not long until my family convinced me to check myself into this place, although we both know that didn't help me out in the least."

Dr. Klein laughs loudly, pissing me off and I find myself glaring at him. I would call him a fucker, but I like him and he has actually helped me these past two years.

"Christian, this place does not help people. The people who come here help themselves. When I first met you in November of 2015, I remember a skeptical and hostile man who thought this facility, myself included, along with the rest of your treatment team were full of shit. I think that the only reason that you stayed the full four months was to escape the relentless publicity you were experiencing back in Seattle. After all, what happened when you went back to Seattle?" Klein asks. "You returned to your multi-million dollar penthouse, stopped all contact with your family for a year, and succumbed to your addiction to BDSM once more."

"Well, fuck. Thanks for making a guy feel good about himself, doc." I say laughing bitterly.

"You are welcome. I would be remiss if I did not hold up a mirror for you to look into, Christian. Just do not blame your first go around at this treatment facility as the reason you chose to return to Seattle and went back to a seedy BDSM club. Whether you fail or succeed after you leave a rehabilitation center is all on you and the choices that you make. Obviously, you left here and made poor decisions, although we worked through those two years ago. Yet here you are again. Living in a plush house overlooking Lake Zurich, you have your own personal gourmet chef, a butler, and a live in psychologist. You have all of those things in Seattle, along with intense therapy with a psychiatrist, you are in frequent contact with me, and yet you are sitting in a chair across from me and we are discussing a subject that you cannot seem to let go of," He says. "Your trouble is loss, Christian, and is compounded with guilt. Immediately after that disastrous meeting concerning your divorce, your only friend, and do not bullshit me and say that Jason Taylor was just an employee and not your friend. Hours after you left that meeting, he resigned and left you and Seattle behind. You lost that iron curtain you hid behind when it came to your family and you finally told them the truth. However, most of all, you lost Anastasia. You lied to her that day when she asked you why you never divorced her if you hated her, Christian. We both know that you hated yourself and it was easier to blame it on your wife. Face it, Christian. You were a coward."

I have been called many things in my life, although I do not ever recall a time when anyone dared to call me a coward. I feel my face flush and sit on the edge of the chair. I am furious. How dare this smarmy, little German call me a fucking coward? Nearly finding myself raising my hand to point a finger in his face, I remember that goddamn calming technique he taught me two years ago. Once again, I close my eyes and count to twenty. Opening my eyes, I find Klein smirking at me. He is amused at my anger, and what pisses me off is the fact he is right and the fucker knows it. It was easier to blame Anastasia and I was too afraid to look at myself and realize that.

"I won't deny that, Dr. Klein, although I do not like being called a coward. Maybe I was reticent or stubborn, but not a coward." I reply.

"What do you American's say? Whatever floats your boat?" He laughs. "Let's call it whatever you want, Christian. I am curious about your friend Jason Taylor. Remind me what became of him? Have you spoken to one another in these past two years?"

"Taylor started his own security company on the East coast. From what I have heard, he has done quite well for himself and we have not spoken since 2015. You may remember that I offered him the money to start up his business and he told me to fuck off. I understood his actions, Dr. Klein. He had been angry with me for years, and then hated my existence when his marriage ended. However, I will say that I do not understood why he knew my behavior was so abhorrent and still covered for me. I never had an opportunity to ask him and it will always be something that will bother me. Jason was my friend, I cared very deeply for Gail, his ex wife, and I live with the guilt that I am the reason that their marriage ended. Once Jason left, I could barely look at the rest of my security team who were also conspirators when it came to hiding the truth from Anastasia, and I fired all of them. I have a new group of guys now and even did some house cleaning at GEH."

"Did ridding these people from your life assuage all of that remorse you initially felt?"

"Fuck no! I sent them all packing the day I met with Anastasia and her lawyers because I was enraged at what I considered their incompetence!" I reply stone-faced.

"So you punished your employees who were simply doing your bidding in order to keep their jobs? That hardly seems fair, Christian. After your rage left you, did you rehire any of them or make any sort of amends to them?"

"Klein, they were more than compensated and I consider that my amends. To be honest, they were incompetent. They were supposed to be the best of the best and my former wife had them running in circles for months. It was fucking pathetic!"

Dr. Klein shakes his head at me and laughs humorlessly. He is once again staring at me as if I am an animal at a zoo.

"Do you know what the word empathy means, Christian?" He asks, cocking his head to the right.

"Of fucking course I do. What in the hell does that bit of ancient history matter now? They received excellent references and benefits for a year. Doesn't that count as empathy?" I snap.

"No, it does not. You are missing my point. Why did they deserve to be fired when they were simply doing what you had been paying them to do? You fired them because you refused to take responsibility for your own actions and blaming others. Why didn't you share this with me the very first time you came to Kusnacht?"

"What in the fuck does that shit have to do with anything? Am I paying you a fortune to stay in this rehab for the top one percent and hear a lecture over who I fired?" I say raising my voice.

"Christian, I am disappointed to hear what you are telling me. You really do not see how inappropriate your actions were. I thought that by now you would have the ability to reflect on your past mistakes and realize the truth concerning them. You need to sit for a long time and contemplate on that situation, Christian, and admit that you were the one in the wrong. Did you ever consider that your former employees had a sense of morals or a conscience and knew what you were doing to your ex wife was wrong? Can you honestly tell me that you can reflect on firing those individuals and not see that you were wrong?" Klein's brow is furrowed and I believe that I have made him very angry.

"Dr. Klein, I can honestly say that I have never thought about it. Well, I did think about, although it was because of all the bullshit I went through replacing the staff that I canned." Now I am laughing humorlessly.

"You need to think about your actions that day and remove the memory of you anger that you felt. This is something that you should have resolved and owned during your treatment two years ago when you finally opened yourself up to healing. Is there anything else that you have never mentioned that I should be aware of? Are there other situations from that time that you still feel self-righteous or angry about? If so, you had better let it out now or make plans for your fourth visit here."

All I can do is stare at him while I flip through each memory in my mind. I was wrong when I stormed into GEH and fired Welch, Andrea, Olivia, and Barney. Shit, Klein is right. They were only following the orders of a cheating asshole because they needed their jobs. If anything, I should have gotten off the elevator on the executive floor and apologized to all of them for making them do things that were terrible and amoral. Fuck, Klein was also correct when he said that they could have felt awful knowing what they had to do, and then facing Anastasia. Fuck. I have spent the past two years thinking that since I was a changed man that I had made peace with everyone in my life, and the only remaining baggage was this rock of guilt that I carry around.

I watch as Dr. Klein removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. He is not trying to hide his irritation. I feel like a complete shit.

"Let us move on," He sighs. "How did you feel this past family week when your entire family arrived and participated in your therapy sessions?" He asks.

"I felt good and thought that it was productive. I know that my siblings do not understand why I came back here and are concerned that I have returned to my former ways. I explained to my parents while I felt the need to return here and they understood and supported my decision."

"I see. Why didn't you confide in your siblings and tell them the reason that you came back? You said they are concerned about your well-being. What is keeping you from telling them the truth?"

"I hate to admit this, but if they were aware of my unresolved feelings concerning Anastasia, they might slip up and tell my sister-in-law, Kate, who as you know is Anastasia's best friend."

"Ah, I see. How is your relationship with your sister-in-law these days? Is she still openly hostile toward you and avoiding you at all costs?"

"Kate's hostility has lessened over the years and she no longer refuses to be in my presence. Our non-existent relationship consists of not speaking to one another and completely ignoring each other. Elliot and the rest of my family understood Kate's feelings toward me and never tried to talk to her or convince her to behave any differently in the very beginning. They all sympathized with her since they knew Kate had loved Anastasia longer than they had, and knew how fiercely loyal she is when it comes to Anastasia. They knew that I was the one in the wrong and loved me despite of that, and they understood why Kate disliked me for it, and still loved her as well." I reply softly.

"Do you not trust your siblings with the truth because you feel that Kate would inform Anastasia of your unresolved feelings about her?"

"Absolutely. I do believe that I could trust Elliot not to run his mouth to Kate since it would be a sibling secret, although I know Mia would inadvertently run her mouth to everyone that she knows."

"Well, where in the world does your sister-in-law think that you are? I remember that you told me she was once a journalist with a keen mind, and knows you were in treatment for four months on two separate occasions. Do you really believe that she has forgotten that and will suspect the truth, and when you reappear four months from now, that this will not confirm her suspicions?"

"Dr. Klein, I honestly do not give a fuck what Katherine Grey thinks about me." I bite back.

"But you do care what Anastasia will think once her best friend confirms what they will be assuming." He replies smirking.

Rubbing my chin, my eyes land on the flower arrangement sitting on the coffee table and I turn Klein's words over in my mind. They are the same kind of questions that my psychiatrist back in Seattle asks me, and just like now, I never have a concrete answer. I know that I would like to think that Anastasia knows that I have changed and I am no longer the cruel man that I was to her. I would like to believe that she knows how much I appreciate what she has done for me and that is probably the reason that I did change. Oh, fuck. The fact that I want her to know how I have changed and how much I appreciate shit is all about MY feelings. When I think about Anastasia and hope she realizes shit about ME, and wanting her to notice ME, and the changes in MY life, I now see that is fucking selfish and a way of making me feel better about myself. The fucking truth of the matter is that I do not want her to know that I am here and believe that I have returned to the same scumbag I was when we were married. Mother fucker. That is the same selfish way of thinking. Me, me, me. What about her, her, her? Why should I even still give a fuck what Anastasia thinks about me in the first place? God only knows that it is still probably awful, and her opinion of me will never change. I want to know how Anastasia has changed. I need to know how she is doing and what she thinks about. Jesus. I want the guilt I feel over what I did to her to leave the inside of my head. I do not want to overhear my mother and sister in the kitchen discussing the lunch they had with her the previous day and then feel nauseous. I want to stop looking at Charles, the new head of my security and personal CPO, and think that if I had not have been a sick fuck, that would still be Jason Taylor and he would be driving me to the house on the Sound. I do not want to eat Mrs. Spencer's Mac and cheese; I want to eat Gail's. I am tired of hearing my PA brag about her kids, and show their goddamn pictures to everyone and remember how vicious I was to Anastasia over having children, and how I denied her every time that she pleaded with me about starting a family. I want to stop driving past playgrounds and seeing brunette little girls that could…

"Christian! Christian, did I lose you or was your prolonged silence a way to avoid what I said?"

"I was not avoiding the question. I was lost in my own thoughts. My reply to that question is that maybe it is a good thing that people don't always admit how they feel." I say shrugging.

"My reply to that is that it is complete bullshit and you damn well know better." Klein stares at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Isn't this session nearing an end, Dr. Klein? After all, it is our last one of the day and today's last family session exhausted me. It is late and I am tired," I say. "We can pick this up tomorrow, along with a ton of more fucked up shit, but I am calling it a night."

Dr. Klein tilts his head to the right and observes me for a moment. He recognizes that I am done for the day and I recognize that he has more to say to me, although what he asks nearly knocks me out of my chair.

"Do you still carry Anastasia's letter in your wallet?"

"Yes." I reluctantly reply.

"Your homework for tonight is to pull that letter out and read it. Then you are finally going to do what I have been telling you to do for two years, and that is to write a letter to her. You never have to give it to Anastasia. However, I do want you to give it to me, Dr. Meyer, along with Dr. Franklin in Seattle. Since she will never see it, that is unless you want to send it to her, hold nothing back. Be honest and open with your feelings and describe your guilt, and perhaps this letter will help us rid you of that guilt. Bare yourself as you do with your journal entries, Christian. You have held onto that letter for years, and there is a reason that you refuse to tell anyone why you carry it with you wherever you go. If you want closure, then writing this letter is taking the first step toward it."

"Why in the hell do you believe that writing such a letter will help me find this closure you refer to?" I say in a rushed breath.

"Do you really want to know the answer to that, Christian?" Klein asks me.

"I would not have asked you otherwise." I snap much too rudely.

"We know that you and Anastasia have run into one another at functions and the like, although you knew ahead of time that you would see her and you put up your protective shield and then avoided her at all costs. But the reason that you need to write this letter is because there will be a day when you will not know you will see her, and there will not be a protective shield around you, and no way to avoid her," Klein is whispering now and leaning toward me. "Maybe it will be in three years time and you are standing at a crosswalk when you spot Anastasia across the street and waiting at the very same crosswalk. You will notice a purse on her shoulder and realize that you have never seen it before, and it will hit you that the reason you have never seen it is she is no longer a part of your life. You will notice the necklace around her neck, and that she must be listening to her iPod or iPhone because she has ear buds in her ears, and is bobbing her head along to a song that you cannot hear. You will find yourself wondering what she is singing in the shower these days and remembering her humming along to the radio. You will look at her face and think back to her smile against your lips and her fingers in your hair, Christian. When that green man at the crosswalk flashes, Anastasia is going to see you, and you will watch as her eyes widen a little and she looks as startled as you feel. Even if either of you felt like talking to the other, there is not going to be time and you will walk closer to her. She may even offer you a small grin or perhaps you will give her a wave. Once you are inches from Anastasia, you will finally notice that her hair looks different; maybe it frames her face now. She may say hello and you are going to notice how much more mature she looks and not like the young bride you had married. Once she has passed you by, you will not be able to help yourself from turning around to watch her. Christian, you may picture her on a blanket watching the stars at night or wondering if she now has a favorite food. You will be staring at her back until you can no longer see her, and you are going to hear the last time that Anastasia told you that she loved you. It will be at that exact moment when you are going to want to say it back to her."

As Klein speaks, I feel like I am choking. Standing, I rub my face with both of my hands and try to wipe away the visual he has put in my head and the nausea that I suddenly feel. I have often pictured a day like that happening and it always leaves me reeling. What makes it even harder to hear is that I wonder about each of those things already. What Anastasia thinks and feels. How has Anastasia changed? I turn my back to him, running a hand through my hair and nod.

"I understand, Klein. I am going to head to my room now and write the letter. You'll have it in the morning." I can barely speak as I swallow the knot in my throat.

Dr. Klein does not answer me as I head down the hall to my bedroom. Once inside, I open the top drawer of a desk where I keep my wallet. Tucked inside is a well worn, heavy, and cream colored envelope addressed to me in Anastasia's handwriting. I do not read the letter very much because it leaves me feeling like a gutted fish. I still do not understand why I have carried it in my wallet after all of this time. I gaze at her handwriting and the way that she wrote Christian for a few seconds before I carefully remove the letter from the envelope. Like the envelope, it has been folded and unfolded so many times that it is well worn, and I am very gentle as I open it because I am terrified that I will tear it. I always stare at the letter before actually reading her words. I take in her former monogram at the top of the stationary and sometimes run my finger across its slightly raised lettering. As always, I have to prepare myself before I begin to read it, and exhale deeply.

_December 2, 2016_

_Dear Christian,_

_I can picture your bewildered expression as to why I wrote this a year ago and I am sending it to you now. I do not even have the answer to that question. I do vividly remember writing it though- it was in the middle _

_of the night, and I was thinking about Carla because sleep eluded me, and all that I could hear was a Crystal Gayle song that had been one of Carla's favorite songs. Is it not odd how our minds work and we can recall __irrelevant details like that? Anyway, I was in my safe last night, and found this and decided to send it your way. I am not sure if the concierge at Escala will give it to your security, although I thought it would not hurt__to try. Regardless if you are reading this, or it is a wad in your trash can, here is a letter that I wrote to you once upon a time._

_November 8, 2015_

_Dear Christian, _

_If you're reading this, please excuse my pathetic format of writing a proper letter. Insomnia makes me not give a shit whether or not I indent each line or smear the ink from this cheap PaperMate pen. I know how much you hated me buying a pack of three-dollar pens at some random Walgreens while you wrote with a Mont Blanc pen that cost a fortune. Let us blame that on how differently we were brought up. I know that I am sitting at this desk scribbling away on a letter that I will never send to you, and I know that it would be pointless if you were to read it. Right now, I do not care. I just need some form of expression to let go of some of my feelings, thoughts, and personal truths. There was a time that I felt I could tell you anything and believed that you knew me better than anyone. Hell, maybe you did know me better than anyone, who fucking knows? I always told you how I felt and shared secrets with you that I have never told another soul. I think that is why I chose to pour these words out to you, even though you do not care to hear any of it, and I am obviously crazy to be writing this to you. _

_I needed you more than I ever told you and I told you a lot. I never felt that I had to pretend when I was with you because I thought that you cared. I believed that you loved me. God, how did I get that so wrong? You would think that I would be free from this pain by now, and it does not hurt as it used to. You see, it still hurts more than I admit. My soul has been devastated, and I am still imagining the pillow in my arms is you, Christian. I practice smiling in the mirror and laughing at Kate's stupid jokes so she thinks that I am a wound that has begun to heal, although it is pure bullshit. You are my open wound and I want nothing more than to heal. I sob and hug my pillows at night and swear that love is shit, and that you took the best of me, dragging me along your roller coaster of life, although you never asked me if I liked roller coasters. You will never tuck my hair behind my ear again, and knowing that is a sharp dagger in my heart, a piercing intake of breath. Christian, I am not writing any of this to make you feel guilty, especially since I know that you would not feel guilty anyway. I am writing this for me and I will probably tear this letter into shreds once I have written it. I loved you and I still do. I realize that falling in love with you was like falling into a trap, but it never felt that way. I never considered that maybe there was a reason that everything you did ended up hurting me. You changed the subject whenever I was sad and told me that you could not handle my emotions. That caused me to feel less than zero. I wanted to have your child so badly, and whenever I brought it up, you would gently place a hand over my mouth in order to shut me up. I never realized your hand was your way of answering my plea. I was never able to see that until I realized the truth and that you were far, far away. I only saw it when I realized that a huge, iron fence separated us. That fence masqueraded as love. I was overwhelmed with grief, angry at being stupid, and overflowing with sadness. I could not comprehend that you took my love, trust, and gentleness and used it against me._

_I managed to get a few hours of sleep last night and I had a dream. A wonderful dream and it was about the two of us. We were sitting on that bench in the meadow that is behind the house on the Sound. You know, it is the one Elliot built for us when we got married. We were holding hands, and the sun was setting and we were in its beautiful light. You told me how good it felt to sit with one another and you gave me a glorious smile. You looked relieved, as you had finally found something you had been searching for your entire life. The wind softly blew my hair and your thumb was stroking my hand. It was what I always wanted for us and I had never felt happier than I did in that moment. We kept our fingers tangled together, giving gentle squeezes of our love. Leaning my head on your shoulder, I felt like I was at home and I slowly closed my eyes as I gave in to your overpowering devotion._

_I woke up confused. The only light was coming from the bathroom and reality hit me. It left its bitter taste and disappointment. My chest nearly broke from the heavy emptiness I felt and I winced from the pain. That pain compared to nothing when I found that you were nowhere near me and would never be near me again. The pain is that dream is a nightmare that I will never wake up from. _

_Christian, I want a life unlike the one I have now. This life is so goddamn empty. I want to be wrapped in arms and hugged so hard that I can barely breathe. I want a breathless and misplaced mouth that is searching for my lips and miss their aim. I want a love that messes up my hair and not my head. I want a simple and grounded love where vows are never ending truth. I want to dance outside in the moonlight and a quiet comfortable silence. I want my life to be falling asleep to soft giggles and a child who looks like the man that I love._

_I wanted that life with you, Christian Grey. I wanted that dream to be our reality. I wanted that child to look just like you. _

_I have not forgiven you, Christian, but I know that I will. I also know that despite you never wanted me; I will always carry a small part of you within my heart, regardless if you want to be there or not. _

_Ana _

I have read Anastasia's letter many times and it never fails to twist my spine into a pretzel. This time is different. Her words feel different, and I can actually feel the devastation that she did as she wrote them. I have an overpowering need to throw up, but I manage to place the letter on the desk carefully, before running to the toilet and emptying out the entire contents of my stomach. I continue to dry heave for several minutes and then lay on the cool bathroom floor. I am not sure if reading that letter affected me differently due to my conversation with Dr. Klein or not. My fucked up feelings and thoughts confound me, and as I attempt to logically figure this shit out, I feel tears running to my temples. Stunned and embarrassed despite being alone, I throw my right arm across my eyes, and feel the weight of the world drop on top of me. I have not cried in so long that I do not even remember the last time that I did. Suddenly, my tears become sobs that I cannot stop or control. They shake my body violently and I do not understand why. Did that fucking letter light a fuse to an unknown feeling? Am I crying for Anastasia's pain that is heartbreak on a piece of stationary? Jesus fucking Christ! Are these tears about me, for being fucked up, and ruining so many years of my life, along with an innocent young woman?

I finally manage to drag myself over to the sink and brush my teeth. I do not look at myself in the mirror since I do not want to see a crying little bitch staring back at me. Dragging my ass to the desk, I take a long look at Anastasia's letter, and carefully place it inside its envelope and back into my wallet. I grab the journal they give every patient, and smile at the irony of having to use a cheap pen as Anastasia wrote about in her letter. Gazing at the blank pages, I have no idea how to start a letter to my former wife. How does one honestly communicate with someone they have never honestly communicated with? Fuck, I am Christian Grey, the wealthiest man in Washington State and the eleventh richest man in the goddamn world. I think that I can piece together a fucking letter. Even though I am Christian Grey, I still have to take a deep breath before I can even write her name.

_Anastasia, _

_I never replied to the letter you sent me three years ago, so I know that to say this is a long time coming is an understatement. I am also writing this in the way you described as ignoring the proper way to format a letter and am saying fuck it as well. _

_In your letter, you told me you never planned sending me the letter that you had written. I have made the decision that I am going to send you this letter, although you will probably choose to ignore it or throw it away. I do not want this letter to make you feel as if a ghost from your past has reached out and touched you. I sincerely hope that it does not make you feel that way, and I apologize if it does so. _

_In our story, I was the bad guy. Describing me as a 'bad' guy is insulting, and I wish that I had not put it that way. Anastasia, I know that life is not black and white, but please hear me out. In our story, I was the one who grabbed you and your heart, ran away with it, and never looked back. Looking back, and re reading your letter, shows me that I was always running from you and your love while you were determined to chase me down to give it to me. I know that back then that gave me a little thrill and was a sick game that I played. _

_I now know how lucky that I was to have had someone who did their best to make a masterpiece of the parts of me that were gross and sick. You used your selflessness and kept reminding me that I was just a human and "What a magnificent human you are." Whenever I remember you telling me that, I feel like dying._

_You knocked on the door to a soul and a heart that I thought were long dead, although I kept slamming that door in your face. I heard the times you tried to cry quietly in the bathroom, and whenever I had the guts to come in there, I either pretended that I could not tell that you had been crying, or I would fucking ignore you. _

_I remember one instance when you told me that you loved me, and I said it back with downcast eyes because I knew you did not deserve for a liar to stare you in the eyes and say that they loved you, too. I felt like such a disappointment. I do not think that I will ever say those three little words again without becoming ill._

_I crushed you when I blamed you for my disgusting actions. I was so very wrong, Anastasia. I ignored my warped guilt and blamed you. That is something that I will never forgive myself for, and I have never expected you to forgive me for it. I treated you horribly, so horribly that I can barely think about it, and it shakes me to the core. _

_What I am about to tell you will probably make you angry, and I agree that it is inadequate for the hell that I put you through and it is much too late to matter._

_Anastasia, I am sorry. I wish that I had been a stable man for you and not a pathological liar. I wish that I had not been so disrespectful toward you, impatient with you, and so, so, cold to you. I always knew that we were running on borrowed time and that you would eventually find out what I had been doing behind your back. I was so fucked up that I believed giving you Grey Publishing was enough to soothe the pain you would feel once you were aware of what a piece of shit I really was._

_I know you are aware of all of the changes I have made in my life and I know that my life now does not affect yours or change our past. I just want you to know that I realize the life I have now came at the cost of your heart and soul, and I wish I could take that back. I also want to tell you that if it were not for your kind soul that I would still be that cruel and vicious man that I once was. It is so unfair that Christian Grey finally had his head screwed on straight at the cost of Anastasia Steele's existence and her entire soul. _

_Anastasia, in our story you have been the one who moves on and finds a man that will love you as you deserve to be loved. A good man who never forgets your birthday, and knows the hospital that you were born in. He is going to know how old you were when you learned how to ride a bike, and how your grandparents passed away. He will care enough to know the name of every pet that you ever had. This man will never have to ask what your favorite candy is or what your favorite book is. He will know your favorite color, movie, pair of shoes, and song. You will never have to worry if he remembers what your phobias and fears are. Your first heartbreak, problems with Carla, and your love for Ray will be imprinted upon his heart. This man knows your strengths and weaknesses, and all of your mixed emotions. He knows about your hatred of ketchup, and that uncanny ability of yours to quote an entire film you know by heart. Your bad habits, mannerisms, and laugh will be things that he will cherish. He will recognize that you fidget when you are bored and know that you have already picked out the names of your babies. This guy is going to know, get annoyed at, and eventually accepts that you leave your clothes all over the place, and organize your DVD's alphabetically. He is going to know how many times you dip your teabag into the teapot and how many sugars you use. On a rainy Seattle Sunday, he is going to go straight to the horoscopes in the newspaper because he knows that is all you read in the newspaper. Anastasia, you will never have to tell him how you are feeling, and he will be able to tell that you need to pee from the look on your face. He is going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom, inside and out. He will learn from sharing your life with him, from really listening to you, and watching every move you make. This man will know everything about you; the good, the bad, and the ugly and do you know what else? He will love you anyway. _

_As I write this, I cannot help but admit that the man I am describing could be me. That I should have been that man. Alas, I am not that man, I never was, and I cannot help that it makes me angry._

_Jesus fuck, Anastasia. I look around and admit the catastrophe that I created. I see the blood and guts. If bleach could clean up our past, I would buy the company that manufactures Clorox. I would scrub away every mean word I said to you, the pain my behavior brought you, and the family that I denied you. _

_I was selfish and always knew that it would be your heart that was going to be splintered. I would do anything to change that, although I know that I cannot. _

_I am going to end this with a weak and pathetic smile and go to bed. As I have done countless nights, I will climb into bed and drift off thinking, "I'm sorry. I am sorry. I know you deserved so much better, and I am sorry it is this way."_

_Anastasia, for what it may or may not be worth, I will forever be sorry and will wonder 'what if'._

_Christian_

I drop the pen, tear the pages of my letter from the journal, and fold them in half. I will have to get an envelope tomorrow and ask my mother to give the letter to Anastasia. However, I do admit that she might refuse to do so. I know she will be afraid it will upset Anastasia or disrupt her life. If that is the case, I will have to accept it.

After a very long shower, where I just stood under the water and thought about my life, I climbed into bed and just stared into the darkness of my room. Every thought concerned Anastasia, and I realized a sad truth, although it would be appropriate words for me to tell someone:

"If anyone asks you about Anastasia and Christian, tell them that Anastasia was the only woman who loved me with honesty and I broke her."

From now and until my dying day, I will say those same words to myself when I look in a mirror. Whenever I get out of the shower and wipe the steam off my bathroom mirror, I will say those words to my own reflection. I may look good that morning and every morning for the rest of my life, however, I will know there will always be someone missing.


	31. Ana

As I have been saying since March, all rights to the characters and the story of FSoG belong to a very wealthy woman whose pen name is E L James

This story &amp; all of its mistakes are mine.

_Ana_

_December __2019_

"We are pathetic, Ana," Kate mumbles while chewing a mouthful of her double cheeseburger.

"Um…." I shake my head while finishing my own and drain my diet Coke. "I'm perfectly fine if pathetic tastes this good."

"Yeah, but you aren't the bitch who gained seven pounds since her last doctor's visit!"

"Beetch"

My eyes grow wide and I scowl at Kate, who quickly puts a hand over her mouth.

"Max, what has mommy told you about saying bad words? They aren't nice and you shouldn't say them. Aunt Katie, tell little man that you're sorry that you forgot saying bad words isn't nice."

"Aunt Katie is sorry, baby. If you hear me say a bad word again, I will put five dollars in the swear jar instead of just one, okay?" Kate says this as I stomp on her foot under the table. I smile when she winces. "Let me clean you up, Max. You are covered in cheese and mustard." Her mommy voice is gentle and soft.

Kate removes wet wipes from her diaper bag and starts cleaning my son's hands and face. Little Emma Grace finally quit fighting sleep and is curled into a little ball in the booth beside her mother. We are eating lunch at Ricky G's, a wonderful greasy dive that's beside the office of Safe Haven. This means that Kate and I get our fix of greasy food by walking a mere eight feet from work. As our pregnancies have progressed, we find ourselves gorging on Ricky's cheeseburgers and chili fries more often.

"I 'ont wisten to anty Kite's baw woos," Max says in his little voice that always makes me smile.

"You are a good boy, Max. I know you won't," I tell him, ruffling his blonde curls and grinning broadly.

"At least Aunt Katie doesn't talk like Uncle Elliot, Max. Hasn't he put about three-thousand dollars in your swear jar already?" Kate laughs.

My sweet man nods his head excitedly at the mention of Elliot. Elliot and Max share a close bond, and Kate says it's because Elliot has the mentality of a child. I believe it is because poor Elliot is drowning in estrogen. Having a wife, three little girls, and another girl on the way must have Elliot craving testosterone.

"Alright, little man. I think you'll do. Mommy will have to change your clothes. Ana, please tell me you have some extra clothes for this child."

"Yes, super mom. You fail to remember that I've had two years of mommy experience, and I learned the drill a long time ago," I reply, sticking my tongue out at Katherine.

"Mature, Ana. Real mature," she says. "Oh, I feel like a beached whale," she says as she rubs her pregnant belly. "Do we really have to go back to work? How about sneaking off to my house and propping up our swollen feet?"

"Nope. We have to go through your husband's drafts of the new Safe Haven we are opening. I'm excited that Dr. Swann suggested expanding to smaller cities. I cannot believe we never thought about that before! It's not as if bigger cities like Seattle are the only places where abused children are. While the four centers we have are a lot of work, I am still looking forward to opening up new ones. Your idea of opening centers down the West coast is wonderful."

"Of course it is." She giggles. "I do believe it has been your gorgeous best friend's winning personality that's attracted so many benefactors. Oh, Ana, what would you do without me?"

"F. U. C. K. you, Aunt Katie," I say deadpan.

Max is banging his little hands on the tray of his high chair when my cell phone rings.

"Hello, this is Ana."

"Good afternoon, Ana. This is Ros Bailey, from GEH. How are you?"

Suck in shock. Inhale a gulp of air.

GEH. Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc. Grey House. Grey. Christian Grey. Christian. He who shall not be named.

My stomach plummets, well, as far as it can since my twin daughters are nestled beneath it. I seem to have lost my voice, since I open and close my mouth twice. I snap my fingers to catch Kate's attention, who is doing her best to wake Emma Grace. She looks at me speculatively.

"I'm well, Ms. Bailey. How are you?

Kate's brow furrows. I know that she is trying to figure out who someone named Bailey is.

"I'm very good, thank you. Is this a good time for us to talk? I hoped to discuss something that pertains to your foundation. We heard the wonderful news that Safe Haven is expanding to other cities, along with opening several centers in Oregon and California," Ros says.

Umm…I have no idea where this conversation is headed, but I don't want it near its ultimate destination. I can almost smell Christian's stench through my cell phone.

"I can speak with you now. How can I help you?"

"Well, GEH is impressed with the work Safe Haven is doing with abused children in area, along with the safe house you provide for runaways."

I am staring at Kate, panic stricken, while she keeps mouthing, "Who the fuck is it?"

"Thank you, Ms. Bailey. We are certainly trying to make a difference around King County, and we're looking forward to helping children elsewhere," I respond, praying to God she doesn't mention he who shall not be named.

Please. Please. Please.

"I realize you are a busy woman, so I'll cut to the chase. GEH is interested in giving a donation to Safe Haven, although the foundation might deem the donation too much. GEH believes this donation could help Safe Haven expand even further, perhaps across the country, along with your organization's future endeavors."

Max starts banging his Sippy Cup on the high chair. He is getting as impatient as I am uneasy. What does giving a donation that Safe Have may deem as too much mean?

That has HIS name scrawled all over it.

"Oh, is that your son? I apologize if I called at an inconvenient time. Would you rather call me back?" Ros asks me.

My eyes widen. Fuck no. I don't want to call you back. I wish that you wouldn't have called me in the first place.

"Yes, that is my little Max. He just had lunch and is ready to get out of his high chair." I laugh, trying to sound genuine. "I don't have to call you back, Ms. Bailey. I appreciate GEH wanting to contribute to our foundation, and it will mean a lot to the children. I don't handle the financial aspect of Safe Haven. You would have to speak to Katherine Grey. She is the Board member who handles our finances. I suppose you could refer to her as our very own CFO," I quip.

The three letters G, E, and H have Kate's eyes widening into two saucers. Shocked, she immediately stills and does not flinch as Max's Sippy Cup slings apple juice all in her hair, nor does she notice that Emma Grace is tugging on her arm so hard that she is pulling Kate's sweater down.

"I understand that. I just took the amount of the donation into consideration and thought that, as the founder of Safe Haven, you might want to hear it from me first. I was also afraid of any negative reaction you might have concerning where the donation is coming from," she replies. "I just wanted to personally assure you that our company has a committee that decides on the charities we recognize as outstanding and want to donate money to. As a member of that committee, I don't want you to think that Mr. G…"

I swallow hard. Shut her up. Shut that down. Don't say that name.

"Ms. Bailey, I understand where you're headed, and you don't have to reassure me about your company's philanthropic committee. I believe you. If you would like to tell me the amount of GEH's donation, that's fine. You can discuss it further with Mrs. Grey." My words come out in one rushed breath.

"That will be wonderful. Just please hear out the committee's reasoning for the amount of our donation…."

Thirty minutes later, Emma Grace and Max are safely ensconced in our on-site daycare, and I am sitting in a chair across from Kate's desk. She looks as shell-shocked as I feel. We just sit and stare at one another. Kate runs her hand through her short, blonde bob, swivels her chair around so she could look out the window, and keeps repeating the word 'fuck' to herself. It's another pathetically gray and rainy afternoon in the Pacific Northwest. I try to distract myself from this fucked-up situation and wonder why in the hell I couldn't have been born in southern Florida. It doesn't work, and I'm left wondering about the truth behind this shit. My peaceful life is now comparable to Poland being invaded by Nazi Germany during World War II. I would be running down the street if I weren't seven months pregnant with twins.

"The contribution is the exact amount of money that you returned to him? You're positive it's what you returned after you made him believe you had taken half his fortune?"

"Yes, minus the five-hundred-thousand that I kept to start Safe Haven," I reply quietly.

"What should we do? Yes, it's an obscene amount of money. Shit, it's ridiculous to refer to it is as a mere donation. However, we could use it to do so many good things. Fuck the West coast! We could open up facilities across the country and still have tons of leftover cash for years."

I sigh deeply, resting my hands across my enormous belly, and Kate turns back around with her arms crossed. We look at one another with bewildered and suspicious expressions.

"You're positive it's the same amount? The amount minus what you kept out?" She asks, pressing me further.

"Yes, Kate! Damn, we both did the math!" I practically shout.

Her lips are twisted and she has her eyebrows raised. It is Kate's trademark look when she's contemplating a serious situation.

This shit storm is one serious situation. Jesus H. Christ! GEH?

"You haven't overheard anything about this around the family? Elliot hasn't mentioned anything? What am I even thinking? If anyone knew about this, it would be Grace, and since she is the Board's supervising pediatrician, she would have said something in advance. She wouldn't just let this drop out of the sky without warning me." I feel a headache coming on, and really, really hope it's not a migraine.

Then again, anything that remotely involves he who shall not be named gives me a migraine.

"Ana, you know damn well that I would have told you the second that I heard this crazy shit! What I want to know is what in the hell he is up to. He is GEH, and that amount of money is more than some countries have! That means that this idea was not presented to him, but he was the one behind it! That control freak probably knows how much cash he's got down to the last penny," she says brusquely. "I'm going to call El and ask him if he knows about this."

Kate picks up her cell phone, yelps while pushing herself out of her chair, and quickly waddles toward her private bathroom. "Elliot Grey's daughter just bounced on my bladder. Lemme go pee and then I'll call him."

Kate calling Elliot over this? No. Nope. Not going to happen. That is such a bad idea that when Kate said it, a neon light flashing the word 'danger' should have gone off over Kate's head.

Kate stays in the bathroom all of two minutes. "Do you ever feel like you're going to piss yourself, and when you make it to the toilet, a trickle barely comes out?" She asks.

I cannot resist rolling my eyes. "Such lady-like words from the mouth of Katherine Agnes Grey. Mr. and Mrs. Eamon Kavanagh would be so proud," I say, as Kate reaches for her phone.

"No, Kate. We are not dragging Elliot or anyone else into this conundrum. The board is meeting tomorrow evening to finalize the plans for the benefit. A contribution as large as this will be discussed at length and we can get Grace's thoughts then. He who shall not be named doesn't share information concerning GEH with his family. I'm sure that Grace will be as floored as we are when she hears about her son's…quote, unquote, donation."

Kate doesn't respond; I hope for once she is considering what I said and silently agrees. Her annoyed emerald eyes bore into mine, and I recognize my own question in them-why?

"You realize that even though GEH is making this donation anonymously, the donor is automatically invited to the benefit? I say this because it means HE will be invited to the benefit. What's he goddamn playing at, Ana? Why does he suddenly want to donate eighteen fucking billion dollars to Safe Haven? Billion with a fucking capital 'B'? Has he gone bat shit crazy again? He's been home from Switzerland for months, he finally met a woman who is supposedly decent, and now he unexpectedly decides to pop up into your life. Moneybags doesn't do shit without an agenda. It's confounding at the moment, but I will figure this shit out."

I cannot keep from laughing at her.

"What?" she snaps.

Kate's tone only makes me laugh harder. "You're killing me with this Agatha Christie attitude. Seriously, you know we'll never know the reason behind it," I say, my humor abating. "As much as we'd both like to grill Grace for information, we aren't going to. Like I said, it will be brought up tomorrow and she can throw her two cents in if she wants to. I would also like to remind you, dear friend, the woman whom you proclaim supposedly decent, might actually be a nice woman. You would know if you'd have interacted with her at Sunday's dinner."

Katherine throws her head back and her arms in the air. "Listen! I was painstakingly polite when we were introduced and I wasn't faking it either. Elliot and the family accept how I feel, and don't expect anything beyond polite respect between us. We have discussed this, Ana. I want him to be a decent person, although I love you and you come first. I'm not rude to him or openly hostile, and don't forget I kept mum when Elliot wanted him as little Ana's godfather. I'm with you, I want him to meet a woman and be happy. However, if he has a woman in his life, and she is by his side the entire time, I'm not going to stand beside him and make small talk with her. If he's off taking a piss or she's in a room with just the women folk, -then I will be genuinely nice to her. Well, unless she's a total bitch . . . or a brunette," Kate says, smiling. "But I refuse to engage in fucking get to know you conversation underneath HIS microscope. You and I can have all of the hope in the world for him, but I still don't trust him, and I'll sure as fuck never like him."

Nodding, I sigh deeply. Years may have passed us by, changing who we are, yet there are some fractures so deep that they will never heal. Kate's office phone is ringing off the hook, and I'm lost in the way the rain is beating on the windows, my mind a million miles away. This day started out serene and one phone call changed all of that. It makes me happy to imagine all of the wonderful things we could accomplish with that absurd amount of money, although I flip the other side of the coin and feel pissed off. Fuck being pissed off. I am furious. I've left he who shall not be named alone from day one. I gave him back his money within a matter of days, handed him the keys to Grey Publishing when I could have sold it to the highest bidder, and I destroyed everything that could have ruined him. I took the heat from the unrelenting media after he snuck off to Switzerland. I was hounded by the tabloids and humiliated over 'Grey's affair with mystery brunette' when the entire time I could have ruined him by exposing what Miss Haley Sams really was. However, I didn't and he never thanked me, nor has he ever apologized for what he did to me. Yes at the time, I thought I'd lost something I'd never get back. No –I never believed anyone else would ever compare or make me feel what he did. No, I never believed in my lifetime that my heart would heal. But yes. I somehow knew I would survive if I never heard him thank me or apologize. And I did. I found the courage to be exactly who I was without ever hearing his apology.

"ANA!" Kate's ear piercing shriek drags me into the present.

"Sorry, my mind left the building around your third phone call."

"As I was saying, how are you going to broach this subject with . . ."

Shit.

I hadn't even thought about that. I lean my head back and groan.

"Jesus, I'm glad you brought that up," I say, cutting her off. "My baby brain is off the charts and it hadn't even crossed my mind. I wonder how that will play out. Fuck! What's your opinion? Do you think I should wait and say something after the Board meets tomorrow evening?"

"Sure, Ana. . . I think you should keep this from the father of your children- who is also the man you still refuse to marry," Kate says, glaring at me. "Of fucking course I don't think you should wait until tomorrow! Are you insane? I cannot believe those words just came from the mouth of Ms. Honesty herself. That would be a blatant omission of the truth and that makes it a fucking lie. I hate liars, and you hate liars, so don't be a goddamn hypocrite!"

Kate's angry scowl makes me howl with laughter.

"Instead of Max having a swear jar for Aunt Katie, maybe I should have one. God, woman! You sound like a drunken sailor after his ship has just ported for the weekend. I think that boarding school you attended should give your father his money back."

Before she can reply, Kate's office phone rings again, and after answering it, she looks at me with large, scary, green eyes.

"Yes, Ms. Bailey…."

Oh, hell no. I'm so over hearing about this shit.

I clutch the arms of the chair, push myself up, and wave goodbye to Kate, who is gesturing wildly for me to stay in her office. I shake my head no, hastily make my exit, and head to the daycare to find my little man. This woman is done with discussions over he who shall not be named or anyone involved with him and his over the top donation to Safe Haven. To hell with that shit.

Upon entering the spacious daycare that Elliot's company designed, I find that all ten of the children are sound asleep. Dasha, the young woman who oversees the daycare, looks up from some paperwork and smiles my way.

"Hi, Ana. King Max has been asleep for about half an hour or so. Emma Grace has given him and the rest of the smaller kids a run for their money today. Are you heading out?"

"Yeah, I've been with the Diva, and she's exhausted me," I reply as I rub my aching back. "Would you mind calling Caleb to come in here and pick up Max? Tell him I'm ready to go home as well."

Dasha is still laughing over my reference to Kate being a Diva as she picks up the phone and calls Caleb for me.

The only reason that I am headed in this direction is because Caleb is the newest driver and 'close protection officer' that I have. None of the senior security hulks would have allowed this. I roll my eyes whenever I'm told that I still require a CPO. It seems ridiculous that after I became the former wife of he who shall not be named, that Luke and Tom would be insistent that I still needed one. Right after the divorce, and in the midst of the media's orgasm, I did agree that it was a good idea. Being followed every time that I went out in public, along with the paparazzi sitting out on the street of my new home in the hopes of getting a picture of me, was frustrating and pissed me off. I became even more incensed when HE left the country and I was left to feel the full heat of tabloid torture. That left a bitter taste in my mouth for a long time; despite being told that he had left to deal with his issues. At the time, I couldn't have given two flying fucks about his issues. I had enough of my own.

Once my divorce was no longer juicy gossip, I began to protest over what I conceived as over-the top-security. Neither Luke nor Tom would relent on the issue, and it caused numerous fights between the three of us. The fights usually left me behaving like a petulant child and pouting, or like a furious wildcat. During one very intense argument, I went so far as to taking my shoe off and hurling it at Tom's head as he walked away from me. Naturally, I missed my aim, and my stiletto sailed past him and I had to listen to him laugh all the way down the hall. Bastard. I only caved on the issue when Luke reminded me that downgrading the security team would cause many of the men to lose their jobs, and I felt so guilty that I cried. I was once again laughed at. I tend to get my way more now that Tom is the 'boss' since Luke took up the offer of the 'ghost' man, as Kate still calls him. Luke will finally have the job that I learned he had wanted for a very long time. The FBI. Who would have ever guessed? Then again, why would anyone want to watch over my stubborn ass all of the time?

Looking down at the still sleeping Max, I'm asking myself why the fuck I'm doing this, and I cannot even answer my own question. It must be the feeling that a long dead soul has reached up from its grave and grabbed my ankles. That long dead soul is him, and I don't know why he is doing this after so long. It makes no sense and has left me disconcerted. I'm so lost in my confused thoughts that I nearly miss the street sign for Perkins Lane NW. I am very close to a place that I haven't seen since November of 2015 and never wanted to see again. An odd emotion washes over me and my mouth dries. Right before my eyes land on it, I feel one of my daughters kick me, and I wonder if it's an omen. Perhaps- perhaps I should tell Caleb to stop and turn around . . . no, no, no. Something has driven me to do this, and I refuse to be a coward and allow fear to control my decision. I take in my beautiful son before I hesitantly turn and glance at the home that I shared with him.

"Caleb, would you stop here, please?" My voice is hoarse.

He looks at me in the rear view mirror and has a curious expression on his face.

"Yes, ma'am," he replies.

"Caleb, for the millionth time, it's Ana, Ana, Ana."

"I'm sorry, Ana. I keep forgetting."

Barely listening to him, my eyes are roaming all over the house and the property that surrounds it. The house itself looks the same, although there is no longer a security gate at the end of the driveway, and the high sandstone walls are gone. Obviously, the owner isn't a paranoid, multi-billionaire CEO. The owners changed the landscaping as well. Gone is my field of wild flowers that created a beautiful meadow, along with the low hanging trees that hung over the drive way. I immediately understand why. The yard is a child's playground. A swing set, slide, merry-go-round, and a huge wooden pirate ship cover the sprawling yard. And I thought that I had created Max an outdoor haven. Fuck, was I wrong!

Max. I turn and look at my son and realize what has brought me here. Not only did today's event rattle me, it dug up long, buried longings that I had once harbored. A long time ago, I would sit in my wing back chair that was in front of our bedroom window, looking outside and imagining what our children would look like while they played in the yard. I had longed for his child and that longing was always crushed. I always asked him why he denied me the opportunity for a child, but it took a painful lesson to finally get my answer. He never loved me and never wanted to see me carrying his child. Therefore, his strange desire to contribute to Safe Haven, a foundation for runaways, abused and homeless children is a conundrum. I realize that the amount of his donation is probably another one of his twisted games. I shake my head. I've been told that he has changed for the better, and I hope that's the case. However, he certainly cannot have developed any positive attitude toward me, regardless of what I did, or rather didn't do, after we divorced. I wanted to look at this house and see what it looked like with small children running around. I wanted to see if it appeared as I had once imagined it would. Max begins to stir, and I realize that I don't care what this house looks like with a happy family living in it. I have my precious child and my girls are on their way to a happy home. This house on Perkins Lane NW means nothing and only reminds me of a sour past that I have left behind. I refuse - I refuse to allow whatever warped feeling that's led me here grasp me in its filthy hands. I know this feeling is temporary.

It's after ten o'clock at night, and I'm finally in bed with two pillows elevating my swollen feet and praying that my back will stop aching. I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it to my due date in February, which is ironically the day before Kate's. When we found out our due dates, Kate started going on and on about how that could have happened. I dryly told her that we both fucked on the same day. We were the only ones who thought that was hysterical.

After spending an hour attempting to get my little man to go to sleep, I'm barely able to keep my eyes open when my cell phone rings. Looking at the Caller ID, my heart beats a little faster, and I smile to myself. That's until Kate's voice pops in my mind: "Lie of omission, you hate liars, don't be a hypocrite."

Shit.

"Hey, sweetness," I murmur.

"Hi," he says, yawning deeply.

"I miss you."

"I miss you, too. How is my son? Are my precious baby girls jumping up and down on your bladder?"

Rolling onto my side, I place a pillow under my growing belly, inwardly groaning over what I have to tell him.

"Your son is asleep. It took forever to get Max to go to bed. I think the two top hulks around here fed him chocolate; and the twins seem to be asleep too. Why are you up so late? It's way past your bedtime," I tease.

"We just got finished. The entire day was wasted due to idiots and their bullshit. We ended up having to start the fucking shit all over. How are you feeling? I've thought about you all day," he says softly.

The gentleness in his voice makes my heart clench, and I sigh deeply.

"Other than my back killing me and my swollen feet aching, I feel fine. I spent the better part of the day at the office preparing for tomorrow's Board meeting. After that, I just hung out with Kate," I reply, doing my best to sound nonchalant. "But I do have something that I need to tell you."

"That sounds ominous. Is everyone alright?"

Fuck.

"Oh, it's nothing like that! It's about Safe Haven. Please don't stroke out when I tell you."

"That sounds even more ominous. Don't beat around the bush, Ana. Just tell me." His voice is full of exhaustion and exasperation.

"It's not ominous; it's strange. It's beyond strange. Ros Bailey called me this afternoon," I pause, waiting for his response. It surprises me when he doesn't have one so I continue. "She wanted to let me know that GEH wants to make a donation to Safe Haven. She says that the company has a philanthropic committee that chooses outstanding charities to make donations to. One of the charities they chose was Safe Haven. I told her that she needed to speak with Kate since she's in charge of the foundation's finances. Ros was aware of that and said she wanted to let me know first due to the amount GEH is donating." I don't bother hiding my apprehension. I know that he'd see right through me anyway.

He's doesn't say anything for what feels like hours.

"Well, they do have a committee for that kind of shit, but it sure as fuck doesn't make sense. Think about this, Ana. Grey is the one who has the final say when it comes to the charities GEH supports. Ana, he's got an agenda – he doesn't do anything for the hell of it," he replies dryly.

"You don't have to tell me that . . . I'm not finished because this gets even stranger."

He exhales loudly into the phone. "What does that mean?" He asks.

"It's the amount of money they want to donate." I pause. "It's the exact amount of money that I returned to him after our divorce. The exact amount – that amount that starts with a 'B'," I say in a rushed breath.

"Are you fucking kidding me? What in the hell is he up to? No fucking body would do that shit unless they're up to something! Have you seen or spoken to him, Ana?" He yells at me angrily.

Shit. I knew this was going to be a nightmare, but to imply that I have seen or spoken to he who shall not be named really pisses me off. Doesn't he trust me?

"Are you serious? Did you just ask me that? You are goddamn aware that I avoid that bastard at all costs and would never talk to him! Asking if I've seen or talked to him really pisses me the fuck off! But to answer your fucked-up question - the answer is an obvious no!" I reply, lashing out.

"Jesus fucking Christ! I apologize for asking you that – I know better. However, I also know that giving Safe Haven that kind of money isn't Grey simply doing a good deed. The proof of that is because you gave him that money back; along with the fact that YOU are Safe Haven. You started it and you run it. Those two reasons prove a fucking committee didn't make this decision! This has Grey written all over it. He would not be giving Safe Haven the amount of money you threw back at him if he was truly being charitable! I am really trying not to lose it right now. Fuck! I want to know what his ulterior motive is. Why in the fuck is he doing this after so many years? That motherfucker!" He is shouting so loudly that I have to pull the phone away from my ear.

"Hell, I'm perfectly aware of that! I don't understand any of this either! Kate is as blown away as I am, although she thinks that we should accept it. She said that we could have Safe Havens across the country and enough cash left to stay afloat for years. I see her point . . . but I told her we would let the Board make the final decision."

"Jesus," he whispers. "Kate does have a valid point. However, don't you both feel that if you accept the donation, Safe Haven will be in bed with that motherfucker? Grey will get off thinking that you owe him something, Ana! Kate didn't think about that, did she?" He is yelling again.

Why did that bastard have to do this and cause a shit storm in my life?

"No. She agrees it's weird and is suspicious. Kate also thinks that he's changed and that he might be doing this as a way to apologize," I reply softly.

He scoffs. "CHANGED? What is Kate smoking? That is bullshit! Grey apologizing to someone? There's more of a chance that a unicorn flies out of my ass than getting an apology from him, and you fucking know it, Ana!" He shouts. "After five years, GEH suddenly wants to donate to your foundation, and it happens to be the exact amount of cash you played him with? Do not tell me that you are planning on taking that fucking money, Ana!"

He never shouts at me and it's unnerving. I start to cry and do my best to keep him from hearing me. I guess I don't do a good job of it.

"Ana, why are you crying?" He asks in a voice that is still angry; but at least he isn't shouting at me.

I wipe my tears away with the back of my hand in a very un-lady like manner. I take a deep, fortifying breath before answering him.

"You were yelling at me," I whisper.

There's a deep, pregnant pause before he says anything. I can picture his face as he tries to calm himself down.

"Please don't cry, Ana. I'm sorry that I yelled at you . . . it's not you who I'm angry with. But I am furious at Grey, and I am highly concerned that he's up to something."

Sighing, I try to settle my nerves down. I knew this was going to be a disaster. All because of HIM. HE'S a fucking disaster.

"I know that you're anger isn't directed at me, and I agree with you concerning his motive. If the Board thinks that this money could be an enormous help to Safe Haven, then how am I going to be the only member who refuses the contribution? They will know it is probably uncomfortable for me since it's coming from GEH. I also know they're going to think the donation is more important, and I should just suck it up."

"Ana, the annual charity ball bullshit is on New Year's Eve, and that's not even two weeks away. And what do you have to do at that event? You have to give a speech publically thanking the donors. Meaning that you would have to get behind a fucking podium and thank the company that your ex-husband owns! On top of that, Safe Haven will be obliged to invite that fucker! You're over seven months pregnant, Ana! Do you think being upset all night is good for you or the twins? You've been in knots at every past event when you knew that fucker was there! Do you really want to stand before a crowd of three-hundred people and gush how grateful Safe Haven is to GEH? Every person in the room will be looking from you to Grey! Imagine the field day the press and tabloids will have with that! They'll use that bullshit and say that it must mean the two of you are reconciling!" He says, raising his voice once again.

Whoa…wait a damn minute.

"Is that what this is really about? I ask.

"Is what about? What are you asking?"

"I'm asking if you're so angry over the money or imagining this is his way to get back in my life. Are you thinking that we would get back together?" I breathe.

Silence. A very long period of silence passes by. Our unspoken communication is blaringly loud through my phone.

"No. No, it's not, Ana. I'm many things, but insecure isn't one of them. You're carrying my children and I've adopted Max. You are my family, and you would be my wife, if you weren't so stubborn. . . I'm not jealous and I don't think you'd go back to that fucker. Ana, I know you aren't a fucking idiot, and Grey would step into our family over my dead body. This is about Grey being a fly over a pile of shit. . ."

I giggle. "Are you saying that Safe Haven is a pile of shit?"

Thank God. I get a laugh out of him. "No, baby. I was just making a point."

"No one will know if the Board does accept the donation. Ros Bailey wants it to remain anonymous."

"So you wouldn't have to mention that sick fuck?" He asks.

"No. But their charity committee would be invited and that would include him as well," I whisper.

"Which means security will have to surround you like human barriers! Is that how you want to spend your evening? You love those charity balls! Fuck, Ana! Why are you willing to offer yourself to Grey so he can slaughter you?"

I am getting pissed off. Seriously pissed off. It's one thing to be angry over he who shall not be named making an unwelcome visit in my life. Getting crazy and making assumptions about fucked-up shit is another ball of wax.

"Okay, now you've pissed me off. I'm not willing to allow anyone to slaughter me! I have complete fucking control of myself, and this shit isn't about me in the first place. It's about having safe places for abused children! This is also about homeless and runaway kids having a warm place to stay! If we can get a goddamn ridiculous amount of money for the ability to provide this help this across the country, then the Board will probably accept it! I don't give a shit about him! I have to look at his face in the papers, magazines, the fucking television, and at pictures whenever I go to Carrick and Grace's. Yes, I've had security make sure we're nowhere near one another at bullshit functions. He's done what he promised Kate that he would do and that's to leave me alone. FYI, that's what he's done! She says he has changed, and that may or may not be the truth, although I don't care. If Ros Bailey wants to write Safe Haven a check that has a ton of zeroes on it, then what in the hell is the matter with that? Think about it – what's worse - me being uncomfortable for a few hours or kids who need someone to give a shit and help them?"

"I get it, Ana. I really get it. I just don't like the idea or the unease it makes me feel. I don't like him, and I don't trust him. Period." He sighs deeply.

"And you think that I do?" I ask, incredulously. "Listen, I'm tired, and I know it's very late there. Let's just drop this until the Board meets tomorrow evening."

He exhales a long breath.

"Yeah . . . I'm exhausted, and I know you need your rest, baby. I do apologize for getting angry and shouting at you. Do you forgive me?"

I smile at his soft and genuine voice. He truly is perfect and holds my heart in his hands. I still haven't figured out how I got so lucky, but I've learned to stop wondering how he can love me so much and just accept that love. He didn't have to take on the responsibility of Max, but he did, and he did so because he loved him. Because he loves the both of us.

"Stop it, silly. There's nothing to forgive, and you're too hot for me to never forgive you or kick you to the curb. Women would be all over you in minutes," I reply, giggling.

He laughs loudly. "Whatever," he says. "But go to sleep, baby. Let me know how tomorrow goes, okay? Don't forget that I love you, Ana."

"I love you, too. Max and your girls love you, too."

"Night, baby."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," I say, ending the call.

I'm unable to get comfortable, and it's keeping me from falling asleep. Being pregnant is the most horrible experience I have endured, and how my ex-hussy, best friend has gone through it so many times amazes me. Kate, Angela, and Grace have all told me that I'm so miserable because I'm carrying twins. Twins. Identical twin girls. How in the hell did I end up pregnant with twins? There isn't a set of twins in either family. It figures that I would be the anomaly. As time on the clock continues to pass me by, I cannot help my mind drifting off to places that it shouldn't, and most end up with he who shall not be named. I don't understand why he's done this. Shit. I hope that sick fuck doesn't expect me to call and thank him. That's a thought I don't want in my head.

Great.

Push him away, Ana. Push him away.

Finally, my eyelids get heavy, but I refuse to fall asleep with negative memories on my mind. I let myself fall into the rabbit hole of sleep with a happy memory that is ingrained in my heart.

_We lay there together, my head on his chest while he plays with my hair. I'm exhausted and replete with our post-coital bliss, and I know that now is the time to tell him. I've waited a week as I tried to work the courage up to finally tell him, all the while being threatened by Kate, who said that if I kept putting it off that she would tell him. I know that my knees would be buckling if I were standing up. Butterflies fill my stomach, and every time that I open my mouth to spit out the words, it automatically shuts. Perhaps I could just write him a letter. Oh, Ana. What's wrong with you? Yes, after a mere two months, this is still new and fresh – But I know that he will take this well. So why am I so afraid to tell him? Maybe it's because Max isn't quite two, and I'm afraid that this will run him off. God knows that it would have many men running out the back door. But not him – I fucking hope not anyway. Sighing, I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling of the suite we are staying in at The Fairmont Hotel. Dad and Angela agreed to watch my little man for the weekend so that we could have some much needed 'grown up fun' as Angela put it. I'm unconsciously balling up the sheet and wondering why my Depo shot failed. I feel him staring at me. Oh, fuck me running. He can always see right through me, and he knows that something is wrong. I know that if he asks if something is bothering me that I'll have to be honest. Oh, fuck me running further. It's do or die time, and I'm petrified. _

"_Is something the matter, Ana?" He pushes some wavy locks off my sweaty forehead. _

_Turning toward him, the sheet slips down and exposes my breasts, and he smiles at me salaciously. I raise an eyebrow at him. "Don't even think about it. I'm so sore that I can barely walk."_

_That makes the ass grin even wider. I look at him with a serious expression, and his grin disappears. I want to throw up. _

"_I have something to tell you," I say tentatively. _

_He faces me, his elbow bent, and head resting on his hand. _

"_You know that you can tell me anything, Ana. I don't like the sound of your voice. I hear trepidation in it, and I don't ever want you to feel like you can't be honest with me. You don't have to be afraid of me or how I might react to something. Just tell me what's on your mind."_

_His words are so heartfelt and tender that I almost jump back on top of him instead of having this conversation. However, I restrain my lust. _

"_Shall I just blurt it out?"_

_He snickers at me. "Yeah, just rip the band-aid off."_

_I take a deep breath and release it slowly. I never take my eyes off his. _

"_I'm pregnant," I breathe and watch different emotions pass through his eyes. _

_He's quiet and lays there still as a stone for what feels like hours. _

"_Pregnant? You're pregnant?" _

_I nod in response, and I'm very grateful that the corners of his lips are beginning to curl up into a smile._

"_Are you sure? What about your shot? He asks._

"_It appears that it failed."_

"_Are you sure?" He asks once more._

"_Yes, I'm sure. I took five home pregnancy tests and they were all positive. I made an appointment to see Kate's OB last Friday."_

_Now he's scowling at me. _

"_Last Friday? How long have you known?"_

_Shit._

"_Umm. . .I took the tests last Wednesday. I'm sorry that I haven't told you. . ."_

"_Hold up. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He demands._

"_I was afraid."_

"_What were you afraid of? I certainly hope you aren't afraid of me."_

_Feeling embarrassed, I avert my eyes. _

"_I'm not afraid of you in the sense that you'd hurt me. I was just afraid of what your reaction would be. Whatever this is between us has only been going on for two months now, and I'm not even sure what this is or where I stand. I'm not sure how you feel about me, I try to never misinterpret any of your smiles, and I always camouflage my feelings. I guess that I'm afraid of you ever knowing how I feel or that I find out you don't feel the same," I whisper._

_He gazes at me, his expression completely perplexed. _

"_Whatever this is between us? You don't know where you stand with me? I admit that I've held back and not told you how I feel – Ana, how could you not know where you stand with me? And what's with this 'whatever this is between us' shit? I feel that there's a whole hell of a lot between us. Jesus Christ. You just told me that you're carrying my child, and you've made me the happiest man alive."_

_I must be gaping at him when he pulls me to him and places a hand on my flat stomach. _

"_You're so goddamn beautiful," he whispers. "Ana, I love you. No, I'm in love with you. I'm not just saying this because I've found out that your pregnant with my child either. I know that I haven't come out and said it, and I admit that's because I was afraid of what you'd say. But I love you in ways that I have never loved anyone and that scares the fucking hell out of me."_

_I'm crying and tears are blinding me. He starts wiping them off my cheeks. _

"_I feel the same way. I'm in love with you, and while the idea of being pregnant scares the shit out of me, I'm so very happy that I'm having your baby. Whether this child is a boy or a girl, I know that this baby will be as perfect as you," I choke on my words._

_He leans his forehead against mine. _

"_I guess we should have had this discussion already."_

_A soft laugh escapes my throat. _

"_Yeah, that would have probably been a good idea. Will you tell me something?"_

"_Yes," he mouths._

"_When did you know?" I ask._

"_That I loved you?"_

"_Yeah."_

_He pulls away from me and looks me in the eyes. _

"_I knew that I did from the first moment that we met. It was . . . not love at first sight exactly – it was more like familiarity. I felt like, 'Oh, hello . . . there you are and I've been waiting for you.' Ana, it will always be you."_

The only pair of eyes that are looking at me are Dr. Swann's, who serves the foundation as it's supervising therapist. Everyone else is looking everywhere but me, and the room has grown silent. Even Grace doesn't seem to know how to react or what to say. I keep my eyes on Max who is on the floor playing with blocks. I didn't feel like asking his usual babysitter to watch him, and his presence always calms me. Katherine waited to address the issue of GEH and their staggering donation until she went through the list of other donors. It feels as if a century goes by before Kate continues in her direct and blunt manner.

"I can see how uncomfortable this possible donation makes each of you, and I understand why. If it eases your anxiety, I assure you that I have discussed the situation with Ana, and she wants the Board to make the decision. Personally, I believe that such an extraordinary contribution to our foundation would be a Godsend. Receiving such an enormous donation, along with the contributions from other donors, will allow us to do unbelievably positive things. Our treasury could last a very long time," she says in a strong and confident voice.

Well, now every mother-fucking eye is on me. Jesus, I would like to kill he who shall not be named.

"Ana, how do feel about accepting a donation from the company that is owned by your former husband?" Dr. Swann asks. She has an eyebrow raised as she stares at me. If we weren't in a room full of people, I would remind her that I haven't needed her services in more than two years.

I clear my throat, square my shoulders, and glance around the room.

"I agree with Kate. Receiving such a substantial donation would last a very long time and allow us to venture across the country. In my opinion, we would be fools not to accept it. I believe that it's irrelevant where the donation comes from."

"Is Ana's word enough for each of you to accept GEH's donation?" Kate asks, looking at each of the Board members. "I would also like to point out that this isn't about Ana's personal life. This is about the business of our foundation, and while this might sound callous, the Board shouldn't take the personal feelings of a fellow member into account. Does anyone disagree or have anything to say about this?"

Grace is gazing at me with a bittersweet smile. I watch her eyes move down to my little man, and she gazes at him with utter devotion.

"I'd like to say something, Katherine," Grace says. "Before each of us cast a vote over GEH's donation, please take a look at this precious child playing in the floor. Everyone in this room is aware that he was abandoned and would probably be in the foster system if it weren't for Safe Haven. Ana took one glance at this child and immediately began the process to become his foster parent in order to adopt him. I'm not trying to guilt anyone into voting one way or another – I just want you to consider other children like Max and the help that we can provide them."

Long before Grace was finished speaking, many of the Board members have tears in their eyes. I will never forget the day that Grace called me from the hospital and asked if I had time to head over there. Upon arriving, a nurse told me that Grace was in the nursery and I found her rocking a tiny baby with a full head of blonde curls. Even before Grace told me this infant's story, I took one look at him and fell in love. I immediately felt like Max's mother when Grace placed him in my arms, and I rocked him for hours. Once Max's hypothermia was treated and he was to be placed into the foster care system, Grace came up with medical reasons that allowed him to remain in the hospital until Carrick helped me complete the necessary requirements to become a foster parent. I wanted to pay for all of Max's hospital expenses, but Grace and Carrick advised me that it would appear more appropriate if Safe Haven paid them. I became his foster mother in a couple of weeks, and with a little help from Carrick, I adopted him six months later. The funny part is that Max shares Elliot's blonde curls and blue eyes, and Kate always jokes that Elliot and I had an affair and that Max is Elliot's love child. I kid Elliot and tell him he's too ugly to be the father of my beautiful baby boy.

"Dr. Trevelyan, we understand that Ana's son is a prime example of what Safe Haven is about, and that's why each of us is involved with the foundation. It's my pride in this foundation that causes me concern over the backlash it could receive if we accept this donation," Trina McCabe says. This bottle blonde is on her fourth husband – she married and divorced based upon each man's bank balance. She's only on the committee because her latest and very rich husband made a sizeable contribution when I was getting Safe Haven off the ground.

"What kind of backlash are you referring to, Daphne?" Kate snaps.

Mrs. McCabe runs a perfectly manicured finger through her hair and does her best to stare Kate down.

Big mistake.

"Excuse me for saying this, Ana. I mean no disrespect. I am bluntly stating what I am sure others are thinking. Imagine the negative press over Safe Haven accepting a contribution from GEH, which is the company of Ana's former husband. We also have to consider how Mr. Grey's presence at the charity ball will start tongues to wag. The media and horrible tabloids will turn this into something salacious concerning Ana and Mr. Grey. The good work of Safe Haven will go unnoticed by the media because the press will spend days speculating on the status of Ana and Mr. Grey's relationship. Isn't that enough of a reason to decline this money? Think about having Safe Haven's name dragged through the mud because of Ana and Mr. Grey's former marriage."

The audacity of this woman has just dropped the temperature in the room to below freezing. Kate's face is flushed with anger, and she is bending her pen so hard it looks like it's about to snap in half. The rest of the women, minus Dr. Swann, are all wide-eyed and gaping as they wait to see who jumps the table and slams Daphne McCabe's face on it. I sneak a glance at Grace, who is shaking from outrage. It's my responsibility to put Daphne McCabe in her place, and I am so glad that I've finally been given the opportunity to do so. I push my heavily pregnant ass from my chair using the arm rests and lean over the table – well, as close to the table that my enormous bump will allow. I narrow my eyes at this bitch and point my finger at her.

"Who started Safe Haven?" I bark at her.

She has the nerve to scoff at me. "You did, Ana. But not without the aid of some influential backers. . ."

"Yeah, yeah. Your husband, who wasn't your husband at the time, donated fifty grand to help start up Safe Haven. The only reason your botoxed ass is sitting here is because your husband is a decent man and I like him. Let me remind you of something, Mrs. McCabe. Mrs. Grey informed the committee that this donation would be anonymous, and no one, including the press, would be aware of it. The media never gets wind of an anonymous donor, and you are aware that we've had several. And yes, you did mean to disrespect me, and I'd go so far as to say that you're jealous that I haven't needed to sponge off wealthy men in order to take care of myself." My voice is growing louder, and Mrs. McCabe's eyes are growing wider. "For you to dare mention anything about my former marriage and insinuate that it will bring ramifications to this charity is beyond the pale. This foundation and our Board meetings are for the good of children, not a place of gossip or stupidity to imply anything concerning my non-existent relationship with my former husband. How dare you insult Dr. Trevelyan by saying such things about her son!"

"I never meant to insult Dr. Trevelyan," she huffs.

"I won't bother reminding you who the President of this foundation is. That said I accept your resignation from the Board of this committee effective immediately. Please gather your belongings and leave," I say through gritted teeth.

"I have never . . . "

"Mrs. McCabe, I believe that Ana just told you to leave," Kate bites. Her face is blood red.

The bitch makes her way to the door and turns around to try to get in one last dig.

"Just wait until my husband hears about this!"

Grace looks at her blandly. "Just wait until your husband finds out that you're having an affair with the COO of Harborview," she softly says.

That bit of information has everyone's jaw on the floor, but it's Dr. Swann who is laughing aloud. I take that to mean that she already knew.

After a unanimous vote to accept GEH's contribution, we muddle through a few other insignificant details, and the other Board members leave. Only Grace, Kate, and I remain in the office. My Elliot look-a-like is asleep in my arms, and it's only seven o'clock. I resign myself that it will be another battle of wills to get Max to sleep tonight. Looking at Grace and Kate, I sigh, knowing that I have to address the elephant in the room. Grace appears as if she's about to cry and I can tell that Kate is fighting her anger so that her mother-in-law doesn't notice.

"Grace, don't tell him that he isn't welcome at the charity gala. It's wrong on so many levels, and I promise that it won't bother me," I say.

Grace and Kate look at me at the same time. Kate slightly narrows her eyes at me, and I cannot miss the displeasure in her emerald green eyes. Grace's face is full of sympathy and if it's directed at me, I'm going to get angry. I do not tolerate sympathy nor do I need any.

"My darling, Ana. This annual charity ball is for Safe Haven, and I know how much you look forward to it every year. I will be in knots worrying about you the entire night. I don't want you to be uncomfortable because Christian is in the same proximity as you. Ana, you are in the advanced stages of your pregnancy and carrying twins. Twins are almost always born before their due date, and I don't want you so stressed that you could possibly go into labor. . ."

I raise my hand and smile at her. "Grace, stop it. This isn't going to send me into premature labor. I'm honestly fine with it and he deserves to be there; along with anyone involved with GEH's donation. For me to accept his money, and then say he's not welcome at the charity ball would be selfish and childish. You know that there have been several functions that we've both attended, and I came out unscathed. Please, don't be concerned about this, and don't work yourself into a panic over my pregnancy," I say laughing. "He deserves to be there, he's welcome there, and no one will make him feel unwanted. He's been very kind to Safe Haven, and we cannot overlook that."

Kate rubs Grace's shoulder. "Don't feel that you're responsible to keep them apart at the gala, Grace. There isn't a 'them' anymore, and there hasn't been for a long time. Ana is okay with this, I swear. You know that if she weren't, there wouldn't be a chance that I'd allow it to happen. I'm with Ana when she says don't be concerned about this, and please don't mention it to Christian. It will offend him, and we will look horribly ungrateful. Just trust everyone involved. You never know, Grace. He might not be interested in attending."

I laugh, even though I dread the idea of even catching a glimpse of him.

"Yeah, let Mia worry how many representatives of GEH will be attending. She's the exuberant party planner and is in charge of everything, including the number of tables she needs, along with the table settings," I tease her.

Kate looks at me knowingly and offers me a small smile.

Fuck.

Ever since I told him that the Board voted to accept GEH's contribution, he has been eerily calm and hasn't brought it up. I don't like, nor do I trust, silence and it's kept me in an emotional upheaval. I'm sure pregnancy hormones are probably a contributing factor. I know that there's nothing that I can do to change another's mind, and I haven't bothered trying. I do understand his point, and I also understand Kate's mounting anger. She started second-guessing her decision the day after the Board met, and she is allowing it to get to her. Despite my telling her she isn't looking at the bigger picture, Kate has allowed her feelings to keep her from two Sunday dinners, although she made it through Christmas with he who shall not be named and the woman who is apparently his girlfriend. Kate even swallowed her pride and thanked him for the contribution, but only because I threatened her life if she didn't.

After returning from Christmas at the Grey's, Kate lost complete control of her emotions, her emotions over me. It was around eight at night, and Max was asleep beside me in bed as I read East of Eden. Ray and Angela had returned to the addition of the house that I had built for them. I was already in a bad mood over an earlier phone call that resulted in me hanging up on him because he finally snapped over HIS money. The second I ended the call, I was guilt-ridden and he wouldn't answer when I called him back.

Ho, fucking, Ho. Some fucking Christmas this turned out to be.

So when the phone rang, I jumped and grabbed it in the hopes that it was him. It was Kate.

"Her goddamn name is Rose, Ana! It's fucking Rose!" Kate shrieks through the phone.

Huh?

"Okay . . . you're as pregnant as I am so you aren't drunk. I can only assume that Elliot has finally driven you insane," I tease.

It is only then I can tell that Kate is sobbing. Not wah-wahing. Not crying. But sobbing.

"No, Ana! You don't fucking understand what I've been through tonight! You don't know what I had to endure or how it's made me feel, god damn you!"

"Katherine! What is wrong? What in the hell has happened?"

"I have just spent hours celebrating fucking Christmas at Carrick and Grace's. I had to sit across the table from HIS girlfriend! I sat in the seat where I've been sitting for years and had to look at another woman sitting in the seat where you always sat! There she was, across the table from me! Her, Ana! This Rose bitch and all of her intelligent, attorney glory!" Kate yells, hiccupping with every word. "Everyone wants her to be there for HIM, although we all wish it were you, Ana! I don't want to listen to her drone on about legal bullshit! I want to hear my best friend discussing the latest manuscript she's read. . ."

At this point, I'm crying and wobble to the bathroom so I don't wake up Max.

"Kate, please stop saying this shit! I love you and I'm sorry that you feel like this, but I cannot take listening to it!" I reply sobbing. "Why in the hell are you feeling like this? What has brought this on? I haven't sat at that table for Christmas dinner in years!"

"I love you too, and that's why I don't think that I can do this. I know that you have been gone for a long time now, but until now, I've always had to sit and stare at your empty chair. Now there is some polite and boring redhead sitting there as if she belongs there! I can't say anything because I don't want to piss anyone off or upset anyone! However, I couldn't stand you not being with us tonight! I managed to get through it when there wasn't another woman around taking your place. And now there is a woman who's being given gifts and a fucking stocking, and I just can't take it!"

Before I have a chance to reply, Elliot has taken the phone from Kate, although I can still hear her sobbing loudly.

"Ana?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah, Elliot."

"I'm not sure what to say."

"Why do you say that? You don't have to say anything. Kate is probably hormonal and some little thing set her off. It's fine."

"No . . . that isn't what's wrong with Kate, and explain why you're crying if it's fine."

"Well, what's the matter with her, Elliot? I was crying because she is so upset," I reply.

"What has Kate so upset is the same thing that has our entire family torn up, Ana," he tells me. "She spoke the truth. We are happy for Christian - sorry that I said his name. I know you don't like to hear it. What Kate said is true. We want him to be happy and move on with his life . . . we just wish this woman could be you."

Elliot has just thrust a sword in my heart as I think about his family. Why is he saying this? Is this what they really think? Haven't they paid attention to the past five plus years?

"Elliot, you cannot say that. He's your brother and his happiness is paramount to your entire family. It has been too long and I have my own family. You have to leave me out of the equation."

"We did leave you out of the equation until we were faced with this! This is the first time in over five years that our family has had to deal with something like this. Put yourself in our shoes for a minute and tell me how you would feel. We have accepted your not being around, and we've all had to sit back and watch our relationships with you evolve into ones that we don't particularly like. Shit, Ana! It broke mom's heart when the weekly lunches she had with you, Mia and Kate became lunch with just Mia and Kate. You're like mom's phantom limb, Ana!" Elliot has now started crying. "Yeah, you're still around the periphery of the family, but you shouldn't be! Everyone expected our relationships to change, and they have in ways that we have all enjoyed – endured, rather! I support and love my brother, and I want him happy. But not with another woman, Ana. I want him to be happy with YOU, and if you only knew the t . . ."

What in the fuck is going on? Why is he telling me this shit? I've got enough of my own shit and if it wasn't for little Max, this Christmas would be complete shit.

"Elliot! Shut the fuck up! I won't listen to another word about him. I refuse to. He's your brother, and he always will be. He is your priority, Elliot. I fucking miss every one of you, and knowing that you're no longer my in-laws still guts me! However, I cannot listen to you or anyone else talk about your brother. He's my past, and I'm his past. What happened back then was heart-wrenching and taught me a great deal. Elliot, I'm here for every member of your family just as I always have been. The only difference is that I'm no longer at holiday celebrations or Sunday dinners. That all ended years ago, and no one took that harder than I did. It's killing me to hear what you're saying, and I'm so sorry that you feel this way. Elliot, I'm the godmother to one of your daughters. You named another of your daughters after me, for Christ's sake! I am still a part of your life, but I can't help that I'm no longer a Grey. The only reason that you and Kate are feeling this way is because this is new and different, and has changed your family dynamic. I'm so sorry that tonight has you both in shambles, but you will get past this as time goes on. You have to, Elliot. Not only for yourself, but your brother as well."

"Ana, hear me out. My brother has changed, and there are things that you should. . ."

Elliot's words come at the very moment that I have a strong Braxton Hicks contraction and one of the twins kicks the fuck out of me. This phone call has upset me and is now manifesting itself physically. I have no idea what my former brother-in-law is trying to accomplish by saying any of this, and I can't help feeling that he's trying to make me feel guilty. The way that the Grey's feel cuts me in half, but I don't understand why this topic is being thrown in my face more than five years later. He who shall not be named has changed . . . as if I care. Maybe he has, even though it's none of my fucking business. So he's lost his compulsion to beat the shit out of little brown-haired women; how does that affect me? It doesn't. He slammed a concrete wall between us when he admitted that he never loved me. I forgave him, gave him a free pass, and untied the noose I had around his neck. I freely handed him Grey Publishing; even though I still wish that I were sitting at a desk somewhere reading manuscripts. His fucked-up life even ruined that for me because the thought of being an editor made me think about him. My mind was left skewed, my heart was in tatters, and I felt useless and used. Elliot might hope that someone could ask me if I miss the taste of his brother's peppermint fucking gum and that my cheeks may pale for a moment – but they wouldn't. I don't even remember if his brother chewed gum, and if I did, I would take a knife and cut that memory from my brain. I've moved on. I have my own family that makes me deliriously happy. I am loved the way that I deserve to be loved. However, I cannot help if it's too hard for Kate to sit and look at another woman with her piece of shit brother-in-law. It breaks my heart that it hurts her, although I cannot change it – and I wouldn't if I could. Thinking about and understanding why Kate feels the way she does causes me to ponder Elliot's reaction. The suspicion it uncovers shakes me up and leaves me nauseous.

Please say this isn't so.

"You think that I should forgive him," I whisper.

Elliot doesn't respond.

"Oh, my God! I'm right, aren't I? That's what this is all about. You have overreacted this way because you believe that I should forgive him. Let me hear you deny it, Elliot."

I feel like I've been stabbed in the back. They all believed that I should have just forgiven his so-called affair and stayed married to him. Even though they've never known the reality of my joke of a marriage, they still witnessed the aftermath of his carnage, and they still felt like I should have stayed. This new woman has kicked dirt in all of their faces and has them realizing that's never going to occur. It has taken over five years for them to realize this . . . how is this even possible? An unpalatable thought enters my mind; if they know about his BDSM lifestyle, are they aware that's why our marriage ended? Is that question to insane to ask? Would they have kept that from me?

"Ana, I didn't say that," Elliot replies.

"You also haven't denied it. Did you feel that I should have forgiven your brother? It's a yes or no question, Elliot."

"I thought a lot of things, Ana. I also knew that it wasn't my place to say anything, so I didn't."

"But you're saying something now. Yes or no, Elliot," I demand.

He sighs deeply, and I have my answer. I place a hand over my face.

"Do you know why I divorced your brother?"

"Of course I do."

"Tell me the reason."

"He cheated. He fucking cheated on you, Ana," Elliot says, raising his voice.

I can hear it loud and clear. His voice is telling me the truth, and it is ringing like bells in a cathedral.

He does know.

"You know the truth," I breathe.

"Yes. Yes, I know everything." Elliot sounds so ashamed.

"Who else knows?"

"Mom and dad. Mia thinks that he just had an affair. I've never asked Kate if she knew because I know better."

Yeah, Kate knows a whole hell of a lot more than you think she does.

"He admitted to everything?"

"Yes," he says quietly. "It was part of his therapy, Ana."

"Then how many were there and when did it begin?"

Elliot groans. "Jesus, Ana!" He pauses before continuing. "He fucking did it the entire time you were married, and there were five of them."

I'm not sure if I want to puke because Elliot and his parents have known the truth or because they didn't tell me. He who shall not be named betrayed me, and now I feel as the Grey's have betrayed me as well. Maybe feeling like this is irrational. Maybe these wild thoughts and feelings are because HE has pushed himself in front of my face front and center. Perhaps he asked them not to discuss anything concerning his therapy with me or anyone else. That makes sense . . . he doesn't give a shit about what I think, or me and the feelings are mutual. I tell myself that theory makes more sense, and I run with it.

Wait a minute . . . I'll kill her.

"Is Kate aware of any of this?"

"God, no! Nobody mentions anything about him to Kate!" Elliot exclaims.

Relieved, I sigh deeply. This has been too much drama and too much information about HIM. I've got to end this and end it now.

"I have to hang up, Elliot. I've had three Braxton Hicks just talking about this old news. I don't want to hear another word about it. I'm sorry about the way any of you feel, but it's just not my problem. That sounds terrible and probably makes me a bitch, but it's the truth. Perhaps your brother needs you and to tell you the truth, helping him will probably help you feel better. I'm going to go rest. I love you and I love Kate. Please remind her of that and go take care of your wife. I'll see you soon."

Merry fucking Christmas.

Mia informed me that he who shall not be named would indeed attend the charity ball and that the GEH employees would require three tables. Mia tentatively shared that he didn't RSVP with a plus one and when she asked him why he wasn't bringing the new girlfriend, he only glared at her. The fact that she mentioned this to me irritated me until I remembered that I was dealing with Mia Grey. Mia being Mia let the week leading up to the charity gala pass in a ball of mania and drove everyone involved insane. On the afternoon of the event, she called Kate in hysterics over an ice sculpture, and Kate promptly hung up on her. The annual charity ball is held on New Year's Eve. When Kate initially suggested that date, I laughed and told her we would be ruining New Year's Eve for many people and that most would not attend. She called them pretentious fucks and said they would attend because they would want their names associated with the foundation. It turned out that my clever friend was correct.

This year's event is being held at the new home of Kate's parents on Lake Washington. However, it should be called a palace instead of a home. Mrs. Kavanagh presented her son-in-law with her vision of this home and he nearly fell out of his chair. It took two years to complete and is the most ostentatious monster I have ever seen. Even Kate shook her head when Elliot showed her the blue prints. One good thing about the Kavanagh palace is that Kate's over-the-top mother insisted on having a ballroom. I am sure the only ballroom that could rival this one would be at Versailles. Its floor is ridiculous marble from somewhere in Europe and the room's walls are glass that overlooks the lake. The first time Kate took me in the ballroom she stood at one end of the room and I stood on the opposite end. We had to yell in order to hear each other. It is the ideal location for our charity ball. Kate's mother was over the moon when we presented the idea to her since it would be the first function held there, and she was gloriously excited to show it off to Seattle's elite. Kate and I hated ourselves for not bringing a Valium when we brought Mia, the hyperactive party planner to see it for the first time.

"Are you seriously going to wear those shoes?" I ask Kate, looking incredulously at the green Alexander McQueen stilettos she's holding in her hand.

"I'm going to look good regardless of the fact that I'm as fat as a whale," she replies. "Now get on the bed so I can lay my cankles on your lap, and you can strap on these bad boys."

I giggle as we struggle to find a position that I can get in to strap her heels. Kate eventually has to lie on the bed and raise her leg up to my face since I can't get my belly out of the way.

"Ana Banana, do you think these earrings are too much?" She asks while she puts in a pair of gorgeous dangling emerald earrings. "I want to wear them since they were a Christmas gift from Elliot, but I don't want to appear too lurid."

Now that remark has me rolling with laughter. Kate scowls at me.

"You don't want to appear too lurid? That's fucking hilarious! You're seven plus months pregnant and wearing a dress that's skin tight with a V-neck so far down I'm surprised it doesn't expose your flattened bellybutton, and it's got an open back for God's sake. Don't get me wrong, you look stunning as usual, but to say that you don't want to appear too lurid is funny."

Her scowl remains, although she's fighting not to smile. "This is a damn Givenchy, and the personal shopper at Harrods said a pregnant woman doesn't have to hide her bump if she doesn't want to, thank you very much," she replies.

"Kate, I know that. I was there remember? Now stop pretending that you don't know you look amazing, and slide my feet into these shoes."

"I cannot believe that you bought ballet slippers. No, I take that back. I can believe you bought ballet slippers," she snorts. "I take consolation knowing that their Manolo Blahniks."

"Fuck you and your consolation, and let's figure out a way to roll off this bed without killing ourselves."

Once we've managed to pull each other off the bed, we head to a large mirror in one of the guest bedrooms. We decided to head to Kate's parents earlier in the afternoon to avoid the annoying media presence that is always stationed outside the gala's venue. We appreciate the coverage they give Safe Haven, but everyone involved with the foundation is afraid the press will see he who shall not be named arriving, and when I enter, they will start screaming questions as to why he is in attendance. Kate doubts that would have happened since we would have arrived first and he is always fashionably late, although I wasn't in the mood to chance it. It was bad enough imagining a run in with the bastard, and I do not relish making my speech knowing he is in the audience. Maybe his dislike of me will cause him to leave the ballroom when I approach the podium.

"Can you believe that I'm going to be fucking thirty-years-old in three weeks? I'm already Mother Goose, and now I'm about to hit thirty," Kate says, blotting her very red lipstick.

"Getting older beats the alternative," I mumble, pushing a pair of sapphire studs into my ears. "I'm glad you told me to wear my hair up."

"Well, if you'd have left your massive head of hair down no one would have seen how hot your strapless dress is. Shit, you're ragging on my dress when yours is strapless!"

We smile at each other in the mirror. "Yep, my dress is strapless, but it isn't skin tight," I tease her. "Seriously, do I look alright?

Kate raises an eyebrow. "Are you hoping to impress someone, Ana?" she asks suspiciously.

"I would be trying to impress someone if he was here!" I exclaim.

"Ana. . ."

I place a finger close to Kate's mouth. "Don't think that bullshit and don't even say it."

"You're right. Let's just forget about douche-bag and enjoy the night. I'm glad that you went with that Marchesa gown. You look beyond beautiful and that midnight blue makes your blue eyes sparkle."

We appraise one another in the mirror and double check our make-up. Kate is a vision in a body-hugging gown that is the exact color of her eyes, and I am dressed in a fishtail gown made of satin. Kate does a dramatic spin and nearly topples over in her stilettos.

"You're so going to fall down when the weight of your belly causes those freaking shoes to fly out from under you," I snigger.

She sticks her tongue out at me, and we grab our clutches and open the bedroom door. Kate stops with a pout on her face.

"I wish you were sitting at our table, Ana."

I give her a gentle shove to get her moving. "I know and I wish these two girls of mine would stop digging their way under my ribs. Let's go. We've got to get these two speeches over with, and then the bullshit can begin."

It is with a deep gulp of air that I follow Kate downstairs and pray that I am not walking into the lion's den.

Kate is wrapping up her speech, and I am sitting at my table glaring at Tom. The asshole that is too good looking for his own damn good has positioned himself by one of the exits and has watched every move that I've made. Once it became official that the fucker would be attending, Tom decided to bring the National Guard to the gala. I haven't glanced around much since I am afraid that I will see him; but I have seen five of my unwarranted security hulks. Caleb is the only one who doesn't look constipated. I just don't get these fucks or how their minds work. I told Tom that the fucker was not the damn Godfather and that he should chill out, but Mr. Hot Stuff ignored me and walked away. I would have already kicked him into Lake Sammamish if I didn't adore him so much. I'm so deep in my own head that it takes Dr. Swann kicking me under the table to make me realize that Katherine just introduced me and that it is show time.

Yay!

Not.

I manage to gracefully walk to the stage and wait as Elliot helps Kate down the stairs. She pinches my arm when I roll my eyes at her. Kate knows I am thinking about those stupid stilettos she's wearing. The dapper Elliot Grey helps my fat ass up the stairs once Moby Dick is safely waddling back to the table where the Grey family is in situ.

I am uncomfortably aware that all eyes are on me as I stand behind the podium. I silently thank that Mrs. Kavanagh had subtle spotlights installed in this massive room and that one is directed at me. I know its purpose is to highlight me and that is enough to make me want to puke, but at least the light in my face is concealing the faces of the audience. Someone may or may not be looking at me, but I sure as hell don't want to have to look at them. I decide to carry on as I have at the previous balls and remember why I am standing here. I look around at an audience that I can't actually see and offer a genuine smile.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the annual ball for the Safe Haven Foundation. Thank you. . ."

I would not have made it through the past three hours if it were not for a pair of ballet slippers. I stood on swollen sausage toes for my fifteen-minute speech, and then had to make the rounds of ass kissing for God knows how long. Eventually, I said fuck this and returned to my table. I decided that if anyone wanted to say hello to me that I would hold court in my seat. My idea was perfect, and patrons approached me with bullshit chit chat, which thoroughly pissed me off because I hadn't thought of sitting down earlier. Sitting down was also preferable since I didn't have a gang of idiots following me as I walked the ballroom greeting people. As midnight slowly approaches, one of the twins decides to bounce on my bladder as if it's a trampoline, causing me to haul myself from my chair and head to the ladies room. I'm silently praying that I remember where the nearest ladies room is. Unfortunately, I have to pass by the Grey's on my mission to keep from pissing myself, and I have to hug each of them while I cross my legs. Mia starts to ask me if I like how she decorated the ballroom, but I have to abruptly interrupt her and make a mad dash down an unfamiliar hallway. I quickly sense the presence of a hulking goon behind me.

Luckily, the ladies room isn't that far from the ballroom, and across the hall is an enormous glass window that faces the lawn where the fireworks display has been set up. Locking the door behind me, I nearly tear my gown as I hurriedly pull it up and plop on the toilet. Shit, I'm probably pissing on my gown but emptying my bladder is such a relief that I don't care. I laugh when I'm barely able to push myself from the toilet. I'm certain of one thing in my life; I will never get pregnant again. Washing and drying my hands quickly, I give myself a once over. I'm satisfied that I still look presentable. I swing open the door, and my belly nearly slams into Caleb's back. For some damn reason, he's standing directly in front of the door and is effectively blocking me from exiting the ladies room.

"Caleb, what are you doing? Now you goons want to listen while I pee?" I snap irritably. "Move, Caleb!"

"I'm afraid that I can't do that, Ana," he replies.

What the fuck?

"Caleb, who do you work for?" I demand.

He doesn't fucking answer me, he is so tall, and his shoulders are so broad that I cannot see around him. I'm too tired, too grumpy, too pregnant, and miss my man too much to be rational.

"Caleb," I say through gritted teeth. "What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?"

I am very close to kicking him in the back of one of his knees, although I doubt he would flinch.

"I need for you to wait inside, Ana," he tells me.

"Why? Get the hell out of my way, right now! I don't pay you to keep me a prisoner in a fucking bathroom! MOVE!" I yell at the top of my lungs and do my best to see past him.

Whatever it is that has this idiot holding me hostage had better be the Boogeyman or a serial killer. I could stab Caleb in the neck if I had Kate's stilettos. I push him with every bit of pathetic pregnant force that a woman of five-foot-three can muster, and the bastard doesn't move an inch. I decide to change tactics and stand on my tiptoes and attempt to get as close to his ear as possible.

"Fucking move, Caleb. You will step out of my way if you value your high paying job," I say in a low voice and try my best to sound menacing.

"Ana, I am not moving. I promise that I will once Tom makes it over here," he says.

Tom?

From my insane frustration, I let out the scream of a person being stabbed to death. I am nearly in tears.

"Neither you nor Tom will have a job if you don't get out of my goddamn way!" I shriek. My voice is hoarse and raw from screaming.

"Tom will have my ass if I. . ."

"Let me reiterate what I said. You won't have to worry about Tom having your ass because if you don't move, I will fire the both of you! NOW MOVE‼!"

"I can't." he says resolutely.

It looks like it's time for me to change my tactics.

"I'm very pregnant, and you aren't supposed to upset a pregnant woman. Guess what, Caleb? You are upsetting this pregnant woman!"

Finally! I watch him shift his weight as if he's about to move. My happiness over making him feel guilty enough to move is short lived when I hear why he's getting out of my way.

"You can let her out now, Caleb."

Mother fucking Tom to the rescue! What an ass wipe.

Why does he sound so harsh and angry? I guess I broke one of Tom's rules by going to pee.

The idiot named Caleb moves to his right, and I shove him as I escape my prison cell. I point a finger at the both of them.

"You fucks are ridiculous and stupid! Do you see how pregnant I am? You shouldn't upset me and . . ."

I come to a complete halt just as my midnight blue Manolo Blahnik ballet slippers are about to take another step into the hallway. I realize that my body is frozen; but I feel as if I'm skidding across the floor. I'm not quite sure if I'm holding my breath or gasping for air. The only thing I am sure about is whom I am staring at and who is staring back at me.

Christian.

Tom is in front of me and is partially blocking my view. Some hulking goon that must be his security is behind my former husband.

The world has stopped spinning and I want to jump off.

"How are you, Anastasia?" Christian asks politely. His voice is one of a stranger.

It sure doesn't feel like I was ever married to this creep.

Tom throws his arm up in front of me. I am too stunned to speak. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, maybe weeks pass and I still can't find a word to say.

The self-proclaimed monster is as handsome as the first day I saw him, and he does not look a day older than the last day I saw him. He's wearing a black dinner suit and black bow tie, and if I'm not mistaken, he looks humble. He isn't even glaring or throwing menacing looks at Tom.

Christian's eyes dart to my belly and then back to my face, and he nods at me.

"Congratulations. I hope you don't mind that mom mentioned you are expecting twins. Congratulations about your son, as well."

"Mr. Grey, you need to leave," Tom says and then he looks at Christian's security. "Big guy, I'd advise you to quickly get your boss out of my face."

What does this EXCUSE of a man want with me? Oh my, God! Did he follow me down here?

Christian nods once again, only this time to Tom, and he begins to walk away, his goon behind him.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, and without reason, I finally find my voice. I find my very bitter, angry, and outraged voice.

"Did you follow me down here?" I call out to Christian's retreating form.

Tom swiftly looks at me in warning.

"Don't stir up shit, Ana. Don't fucking do it."

Christian stops, turns back around, and I see the embarrassment on his face.

"Yes, I did. I apologize if you think I intended to approach you in a malicious way. I just caught sight of you and thought I could have a moment of your time. There's been something that I've wanted to talk to you about," he replies. He almost looks . . . nervous?

This is too fucking weird and I hate this son of a bitch, but by God, I want to hear whatever bullshit he wants to spout.

"Ana," Tom growls.

I move around his arm that is still in front of my belly.

"Tom," I reply, looking him straight in the eyes.

"You will not talk to that bastard. I will not allow it - do you hear me?"

"Last time I checked, I'm a grown woman and I don't require permission to do anything."

"Why the fuck do you want to listen to his bullshit and venom, Ana? I goddamn knew this night was going to be a disaster!" He shouts.

"I'm really not trying to cause a scene or upset Anastasia. So I'll be on my way. It was nice seeing you, Anastasia," Christian says.

"No, Christian. I want to hear what it is that you want to talk to me about," I snap, my voice is brimming with hostility.

"Ana, I'm warning you. . ."

I turn on Tom like a rabid animal.

"Take your warning and shove it up your ass! I'll talk to whomever I wish and that's the end of this discussion. I pay you to protect me, but not to screen people that I speak to. Frisk the motherfucker if you want to. I seriously doubt that the CEO extraordinaire is here to murder me! So move out of the way, and let the douche say whatever crap he wants to spew. Go stand at the end of the fucking hallway, Tom. You can watch every move the fuck makes, and when I've had enough of his shit, I'll walk away. Now do as I say and don't make me say it again," I hiss.

Tom's face is one of thunder, he shakes his head at me, and I watch as he talks into his wrist. Fucking James Bond wanna-be's. He points at Christian.

"I'll be at the end of this hallway, and if you make one move that I don't like, we're going to have a problem."

My back is facing away from the ballroom, and I watch as the devil himself slowly makes his way toward me.

I scan his face quickly, looking for a crack in his expression that would allow evil to escape. His face has been a blur in my memory for the past five years, and I can't infer what he may be thinking. Hell, I could never get a read on him when we were together. It vaguely registers that I no longer feel any sexual attraction being near Christian.

"I really don't want to cause a problem, Anastasia."

I smirk at him. "Why have you always insisted on calling me Anastasia when you know that I prefer Ana?"

My question has Christian looking bemused. "I've always thought it was a lovely name."

"You knew that I preferred Ana."

He furrows his brow. "Okay, I apologize for disregarding your wishes . . . along with many other things," he says.

Narrowing my eyes, I focus on his and think I see regret. Oh, I understand regret, and that's because I regret you, Christian Grey. I want some answers despite the fact that he makes my skin crawl.

"Did you give Safe Haven that fucking money to get in here and stalk me into some remote hallway? Was that contribution your way of worming your ass back around me?"

Christian's hands are in his pockets and he looks at the floor. "No, it actually wasn't. The committee at GEH that's in charge of charitable donations has suggested your foundation for a few years now. When they presented the idea of donating money to Safe Haven on those occasions, I didn't feel it was appropriate. I also didn't want to upset you," he replies, finally looking at me.

"So now was the appropriate time to upset me?"

"No, the donation wasn't meant to upset you at all. I just wanted to help, and I heard that you were trying to expand Safe Haven to more cities and perhaps out of state. With my company being in the position to donate a substantial amount of money, I wanted to help the foundation if you ever wanted to expand further than the West coast."

"Explain to me why it was THAT amount of money. Is that supposed to mean something?" I ask.

Christian shakes his head. "It wasn't supposed to mean anything . . . well, maybe it was. I've come to believe you deserved that money, and you should have kept it. I couldn't very well cut you a check and mail it to you. So when the committee was considering how much they wanted to donate to Safe Haven, I told them to donate that amount." He shrugs his shoulders.

I cross my arms, and they sit on top of my belly. It's still clear as mud as to what he wants to tell me.

"May I say that pregnancy suits you?"

I scoff and my eyes widen. I nearly bring up the fact that he denied me the right to have a child. I choose to not bring up a past that I've long since buried.

"Well, I suppose you can since you just told me," I snap.

"You're still very angry with me, aren't you? I don't blame you if you hate my guts, Ana. I'd like to say a few things to you, and I hope you consider listening to me," he says quietly.

Eyeing him speculatively, I take a step closer to him so now I have to look up to see his face. Those gorgeous gray eyes are wide and apprehensive.

"You have something to say to me? Didn't you have your say years ago at a law firm in Vancouver?"

He runs a hand through his hair. He still does that annoying shit, and Kate told me that he was completely different. I call bullshit.

"What I told you that day is a part of what I'd like to say to you."

I scrunch my face up and stare up at him dubiously. "Christian, what are you up to? Where in the hell are you headed with this conversation?"

He exhales deeply and looks into my eyes. "I'm sure that you know that I've been in treatment for. . ."

Waving a hand in the air, I groan. Here we fucking go, and like I care to fucking hear it.

"I know what you're getting treated for, Christian. I've also been told that you've changed for the better, and I'm really happy to hear that. But what does that have to do with me?" I ask.

"I spent more time at a treatment facility earlier this year, and it was the most helpful stay that I've had. It was also enlightening, and I saw things that I needed to rectify. Perhaps things I could do over," he says softly.

"Ah, so you want to unload your shit on me so you can get over something that bothers you. You're looking for an outlet in order to cope with life and maybe some residual guilt you might have. I get it. You start therapy and it hurts. It makes you sad and it pains you. I understand those feelings because I spent three years in therapy to resolve my shit. I unloaded my problems with my therapist and not some random person. So forgive me if I'm not interested in being an outlet for your feelings."

Christian shakes his head and looks frustrated. "No, I wasn't clear. I didn't mean to imply that I wanted to place my issues on your shoulders. What I'm trying to tell you is something I should have told you long ago. Anasta, I mean Ana, I am just so fucking sorry for all of the things that I have done. I'm so sorry and ashamed of the things that I did to you. I know that apologizing doesn't change the disgusting ways that I treated you, but I wonder if we. . ."

"Christian, you'll never have adequate words to say how sorry you are for what you did to me. You can say every word in the English language until your lips are bleeding and your jaw is broken, and it will never be enough. I know who I am; but I have no idea who you are. Fuck, I never did. The thing is that I'm no longer tricked by who I thought you were. I am way past those illusions, and you don't need to apologize to me. I forgave you a long time ago, Christian. I set our marriage on fire, held it out a window, and let it blow away. If you needed to apologize in order to move on with your life, then you just did and now you know that I've already forgiven you. Is that what you needed me to tell you?" I ask, interrupting him.

He stands and stares at me and looks so forlorn. "I don't need you to tell me anything. I have something to tell you."

"Jesus Christ! Then just tell me!" I demand, exasperated.

"I told you all of that 'I'm a monster' bullshit because I was fucked up and stupid. I was so goddamn oblivious! When I was gone earlier this year for more fucking therapy, all my feelings crashed down on me. The feelings I had been holding in for so many years hit me at once. I couldn't handle it, and it left me suffocating with what if's," he exclaims. "Please, just hear me out. I'm not explaining myself well or saying any of this the right way. God! I was so wrong when I told you that I was nothing more than a monster and that I never. . ."

I hold my hands up in a defensive position and cut him off.

"Oh, yes. How can I forget those 'Christian Grey is a monster' declarations? So you want to right your wrong of telling me that you were a monster and that's why you mutilated me. Now you're here and you want me to pry open your rib cage and release the monster you're so sure that you are. I understand that feeling, Christian. I had a monster, too. It was you. Do you want to know how I tried to remove my monster? I sat in a proverbial ER hundreds of times and begged doctors to help and get you out of me. Well, they couldn't. Do you want to know why, Christian? It's because a doctor can't remove a fucking monster from your body."

Christian is furiously scrubbing his hands over his face. He is obviously frustrated. "Why is this so hard?" he asks. "I'm so sorry that you felt like that. God will never forgive me for making you hurt like that! But that isn't what I'm trying to say right now. Please, please, just hear me out! Give me a chance to get this out. Please!"

I slowly shake my head at him. "Christian, we are strangers because of catastrophic actions, and there is no amount of polite, mundane conversation that can fix that. I hate to say this, but whatever it is that's stuck in the back of your throat isn't going to fix that either."

"You honestly don't want to hear me out, do you?"

"Why do you say that?

"Because you won't let me finish what I'm trying to say. You won't let me tell you, and you keep interrupting me in mid-sentence," he replies. His voice is low and he sounds desolate.

"Fine, I'll shut up and won't interrupt you while you're trying to talk."

"I . . . umm . . . I kept your letter. And I . . . I keep it in my wallet, and I have since you sent it to me."

I stare at him in confusion.

"My letter? What letter?" I murmur.

"The letter that you sent to me a year after we divorced," he quickly replies. "You had written the letter a few months after we signed our divorce papers, but you didn't send it to me then. A year passed and you sent it to me with a little note inside explaining how the letter was from the previous year."

Oh, that letter.

"I never responded to you. Well, I never responded until a few months ago after I sorted out my feelings and realized something. My therapist knew that I've always kept your letter in my wallet, and told me to read it and then write you back," he says earnestly.

I do as I promised and don't say anything. I watch as Christian reaches into the jacket of his suit and see him remove something from its inside pocket. I keep my eyes on whatever it is he is retrieving from his jacket. What the fuck is that? Oh. An envelope.

"I read that letter and realized what had been in front of my face for years. I saw a lot of truth that was hiding under my problems and addiction, Ana. I just wanted to give this letter to you and let you know that I . . ."

The fireworks suddenly explode, throwing different rays of lights through the window, and startle me. I vaguely hear Christian's words as I peer out of the window and watch the sky alight with bright and beautiful colors. The hallway is illuminated by the fireworks, and I turn my attention back to Christian. Christian is looking behind me. He has stopped speaking, and the envelope is frozen in his hand.

I do not have to look behind me to know what Christian is staring at. It's him. I never have to see him. I feel him. I can sense him from far away because my body is completely attuned to his presence. It instantly puts me at ease and excites me at the same time. The feeling is erotic and inexplicable. I don't need to hear his footsteps to know whenever he approaches me. I am overwhelmed with our strange and pulsating electricity.

He places an arm around my shoulder and the hand of his other arm goes straight to my belly – the home of his twin girls. I feel the warmth of his breath as he kisses my temple.

"Happy New Year's, baby." he says against my skin.

I practically throw myself in his arms. He gingerly sets my feet back on the floor after a gentle, but long over-due embrace, and I clasp his hand tightly.

"Are you alright?" He whispers to me.

Beaming, I nod up at him. He is gazing intently into my eyes, and places his hands on either side of my face and kisses me softly. Pulling away, he smiles, and then he directs his attention squarely on Christian.

"Grey."

Christian nods.

"Sawyer."

Luke gazes down at me and rubs a thumb across my lower lip.

"Are you finished here, baby?"

I am so happy that I can't speak and the ever-changing lights from the fireworks are dancing around us. My huge smile answers his question, and we turn and head toward the ballroom.

Halfway down the hallway, I remember Christian. I glance back at him, and he is standing there watching us walk away.

Squinting in order to see him better, the blue flash of a firework surrounds him. His shoulders are slumped dejectedly, and his expression burns devastation.

The envelope is still in his hands.

_So we've reached the end of this little story. Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and sent messages. The support and encouragement I have received has been enormous &amp; my gratitude is endless. I said that I would answer any &amp; all questions anyone may have-so if you do, ask away. Again, thank you all for reading. _


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